


i always find my way back to you

by moonshinewolf24



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-09-07 11:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 69,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8799169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonshinewolf24/pseuds/moonshinewolf24
Summary: "Answer me Lydia, is he mine?"[...]"Is he-" He whispered weakly, [...] "He's mine. I'm his - I'm a dad. Oh, wow."





	1. we’re close and then we run

**Author's Note:**

> Initially, I planned on continuining this. It only made sense I would add a few more chapters to this story, but then I realised that I'd rather know your opinion instead. 
> 
> So, if you like it, and think I should continue, let me know and I will work on that.
> 
> thank you!

With his hands tucked in his pockets, Stiles stepped out of the coffee shop and braced himself for the cold wind as he rushed down the sidewalk and avoided familiar faces. Though he was prepared for this when he left home a while after lunch, especially after his father warned him a couple of times that there was always the possibility of facing things, - people, actually, - he wasn't ready to face, he was practically avoiding everything and everyone around him. Well, he _tried_  and it was working out just fine, until something _unusual_ caught his attention and he found himself freezing on the spot. That _unusual something_ being a boy, - little one honestly, he was probably around 6, 7? his age didn't matter much though, not when he eagerly gave two steps forward in order to cross the road and was almost hit by a car. _Almost_ , yes, because he was able to throw his arms around the small child and pull him off the road, falling on his back in the process as he held the kid against his chest as if he was his own. 

Things seemed to be moving rather slowly, but quite frankly they weren't, and he found himself noticing that when a few gasps, following by the loud noise of a honk, filled his ears and he quickly looked up. "That's a crosswalk, you asshole!" Screaming surely wasn't the solution, not when he was hugging a frightened child, but as he found himself rather frustrated, - even scared, though he didn't know the kid nor had he seen him before in his life - it was impossible not to show his rage towards whoever that incompetent driver was, that was probably too busy taking a few glances at his phone or clearly ignoring what a _crosswalk_ was meant for, instead of paying attention to everything that surrounded him. "You okay?" He, then, whispered breathlessly to the little boy that was curled up in his lap. Watching the way his small shoulders gave an almost coy, but certainly frightened, shrug, Stiles let out a soft chuckle in relief and shook his head. "What's your name, kid?"

"Jonathan."

"Well, that's a great name, but far too complicated for me. Surely, it's fine for you, you're a tough boy, but I could use something short, so I'm gonna call you Jay. Is that alright?" Seeing as the small boy's face lit up, he couldn't help but smile as well. "Okay, Jay, can you tell me why you're alone?"

"I was going to meet uncle Scott at the animal clinic." Uncle Scott? So much for avoiding things he wasn't ready to deal with. Either way, he bobbed his head in agreement as he paid attention to the kid's words. He couldn't just let him know who he was, mostly because Jonathan would probably have no idea who he actually was. "Mom doesn't like it when I'm alone, but since the school is close to the animal clinic, she figured it was okay if I would just walk there when my school day ended."

"Of course." He forced a smile, once again nodding.

"What's your name?"

"Uh," Maybe that was a great time to lie? Probably not, not when they would probably meet once more in the future and it would be really hard to explain why he had lied before. "Well, my name is kind of complicated as well, so you can call me Stiles. That okay?" The innocent smile that took over Jay's features was enough of an answer, and when he realised he was still sitting on the dirty, cold ground with the boy on his lap, he quickly hopped on his feet and helped his, - what, new buddy? - yeah, new buddy standing up as well while ignoring the few glances he was still receiving. "How about I take you to the animal clinic instead?"

The only response he got was a nod, and so he got ready to lead the kid to his jeep when he felt his hand being tugged by a smaller one. Was he really going to hold a random boy's hand, - a boy who called his best, well 'ex' best, friend "uncle Scott", a boy who he had just saved from getting in an accident, - knowing they really didn't know each other? Well, it was understandable if Jonathan felt strangely secure, safe, around the older man after being saved by him, but still... Stiles surely found that weird. Not that it mattered, because he automatically wrapped his long fingers around that one small hand and took him towards where his jeep was parked. Though he didn't have all the very much needed answers, he still felt drawn to the kid, and he knew better than putting too much thought into something that probably didn't matter anything at all. 

 

* * *

 

The drive to the animal clinic was quiet. Stiles didn't know what to say, and Jonathan certainly didn't know either, considering he was only a kid, after all. Besides, the older boy spent most of the time wondering whether he should finally stop by and see Scott or not. He knew that even if they missed each other after so long, there was always the possibility of his friend not wanting to see him, not when he had no explanation for the past few years. A tiny part of his logical self kept yelling at him, telling him that wouldn't matter as long as they got to see each other again, and he almost believed it was true. But then he'd remind himself of the fact that a tight hug and crappy small talk wouldn't last forever, and eventually the other boy would want, - no, demand, - an explanation, and none of what he had planned so far was good enough. There weren't strong, meaningful words that could ever be enough. And so as soon as he parked his car, he glanced over at the kid who was sitting quietly on his passenger seat and smiled, almost fondly, at the way he was holding his backpack as if his life depended on it. 

"Thank you." A tiny, shaky voice was heard and the only thing Stiles found himself doing at first was nodding. For some reason, he wasn't ready to let go of the kid just yet. He wanted to know who he was, who was his mom and dad, and how close were they to Scott, - "uncle Scott". But as he noticed how the child shivered and trembled slightly, he merely took off his jacket and wrapped it around his small body.

"That's alright." Finally, he spoke up, as beautiful, kind brown eyes met innocent hazel green ones, and he could have sworn there was something rather familiar about them. "You're cold, so take that. And be safe, okay? No more crossing roads until you're sure there aren't any cars driving by, from both sides."

"Yeah, okay." Jay nodded and opened the door carefully without taking his eyes off Stiles, as if he was practically begging for permission to leave. A small grin from the sheriff's son was enough as he hopped off the jeep, and once again looked up. "Thank you, Stiles."

"It's okay, Jay. It was nice meeting you."

Once the engine was running again, the only reason why he didn't leave immediately was because he wanted to make sure the kid would find his way inside safely. It's not that five minutes only were enough to bring them that close, or so he thought. No, the one reason why he was still there was because he had always been too much of a good person. That was it, nothing else, and as soon as the boy slipped inside and the door was closed, he finally backed away and drove back home. 

"Hey, bud." Scott said as he held onto the door while the kid rushed to get inside. His eyes were glued on the jacket he was wearing, he recognised it and he was certain he knew who it belonged, yet he still didn't assume because once he did that, he'd be hopeful and if that was nothing but false hope, that'd break him all over again. He couldn't afford being broken anymore - not after so many years healing himself. "You're late."

"Stiles brought me here." His suspicions were confirmed when he heard those words, and unconsciously, he stormed outside and watched that familiar jeep driving away from the clinic. Scott's first instinct was to run after it, and when that didn't work, he quickly approached his nephew once again.

"Jonathan, how did you meet Stiles?"

"He saved my life."

 

* * *

 

The brunette had spent the last days, ever since he met, - and saved, - that kid, still trying to settle down. He didn't talk to his father about that small, yet very, very important detail either. Honestly, he figured that there was no reason why he should be sharing his heroic moment with anyone else when he was almost certain that he was probably not going to see him anytime soon again - it was a small town, and therefore there was always the possibility of running into him, and his parents, _hopefully_. Besides, his father was too busy trying to find a way to get him a job, which was a relief. The sheriff hadn't really believed his son was going to stick around that time, and though it was understandable, Stiles felt like there wasn't much more he could do to convince him he wasn't going anywhere, but _staying_. Staying was the only option, the only thing there was for him to do at that point. After all, he was known for breaking his promises for the past years.

Either way, after a few days, he had somehow wiped Jonathan off his mind. He pushed that so hard to the back of his mind, that he almost didn't recognise him when he was about to step inside the same coffee shop he had been in, days before, when he met the small child. Truthfully, he only noticed him when he saw the person he was with. Lydia. And then suddenly, things started to make sense and he slowly backed away from the door. The hazel green eyes. Heading to the clinic after school. Uncle Scott. Lydia was Jonathan's mother. His first - and honestly, only - love had a child. There was no way he was ready for something like that, even if the boy waved at him and he waved back. No, he couldn't do that. Not yet. Therefore, walking away was, without doubt, the best choice at the moment. He hadn't even prepared himself to the possibility of meeting his, once in the past, woman, so how was he supposed to be prepared for the fact she was going to introduce _her_ son he had missed growing for being far too selfish?

He simply ran back home, his mind heavy with all kinds of thoughts when he realised that he had not only left his friends, - those that he would have once called his own family, - he also missed their whole lives. Lives that were nothing but unknown to him at some point, and he could no longer say he knew those people, because he didn't. Not anymore. There wasn't much that had changed in his life, but a lot changed in everyone else around him and he wasn't there to witness it. He wasn't there for Lydia. Or Scott. Or, even, Jonathan. He felt like crap.

"She has a son?" He blurted out the minute his eyes landed on his father, who had been peacefully reading on the couch. "L-Lydia? Lydia has a child?"

"Son,"

"No, dad, I-" Releasing a shaky breath, he glanced at his father with pleading eyes. "Please, just.. don't lie or hide anything from me anymore. I need you to be honest."

"Jonathan." The sheriff mumbled with a nod, and a bitter laugh escaped the younger Stilinski's lips as his hands clenched into fists and he faced away, purposely trying to hide the tears that pooled in his amber eyes. God, he was hoping she was only _aunt_ Lydia, as well. But she was a _mother_. "Lydia's son. His name is Jonathan. He's 6."

"Who's the father?"

"Stiles," A sigh was heard, and none of them were certain who it came from. "It's not the right time for complicated questions yet."

And with that, the older man left the room. But to be fair, there was never going to be a right time.

 

* * *

 

For the following days, Stiles would find himself at that coffee shop, watching the small family interacting. Jay seemed like a smart kid, but then again, that wasn't at all surprising. Lydia was a genius. Either way, he was charming, he was sweet. And though he was no longer a baby, it was, - in a way, - shocking how great he was to his mother. Well behaved. Certainly curious. Strangely calm. Really, really calm.

He spent the first days observing the both of them outside, not daring to step inside that one café and facing who was still the woman of his dreams. Though it felt like he was lurking, stalking them, that wasn't exactly the case. It could be, he had done a lot of weird things with his friends in the past, but _that_ wasn't it. Somehow, he was only gathering enough of what could be called courage to approach them, to talk to them. He'd still wave at Jay, and the child would always wave back, which was truly the best part of his day, knowing he remembered him. But that was it. That was the only thing he allowed himself to have for a while.

However, eventually, he'd walk inside, order himself a coffee and get a chocolate chip cookie for Jonathan. Of course, he'd always hand it to him secretly, when Lydia wasn't seeing, not sure of how she would react to that. Still, that went on for almost a month. A month he had spent as a bartender since his father wouldn't let him work with him yet, wanting to test his responsibility rather than trusting him without proof he was worth that. So, at a certain point, that coffee was well needed and he no longer kept his distance, he merely tried to hide it from the strawberry blonde. Until one particular rainy day, when she couldn't handle that secrecy anymore and found a way to make her son talk.

"Who gave you that?"

"My superhero." The young woman's perfectly shaped brows arched in surprise at those words. Words she had been listening to, every morning, for the last month, yet it still surprised her.

"And may I know who would that be?"

"Him." Jay said innocently after tearing the paper wrapped around the cookie off. Her eyes followed the direction his small forefinger was pointing at, and she instantly widened her eyes when she realised that the man that was stepping out of the coffee shop was also the man that she hadn't seen for what felt like ages, and had still missed so hard, remembering him more often than not.

"Superhero?"

"Yeah, he saved my life." Lydia took her son's hand into her own and urged him to follow who he was calling his superhero, into the rain. "And he also gave me his jacket. And he is always really nice and has a cool car."

"Stiles!"

"Yes, that's his name. How do you know his name?"

The tall, dark haired man, turned to face the family he had been so busy watching during the last weeks, and his lips instantly curled in a fond smile as raindrops slid down his young face. He had been so scared to talk to her at first, so much he would do his best not to do anything wrong that would bring her to realise who had been feeding her son too much sugar. But it was about time she realised. It was about time he managed to look into those eyes, knowing they were looking back at him.

"You're back." If her kid wasn't as preoccupied as he was eating his snack, he would have realised that his mother not only knew his hero's name, she also _knew_ him. Thankfully, a mere cookie was enough to keep him distracted.

"You have a son." He replied, the smile on his face widening slowly as she let out a slight chuckle, and he brushed soaked, dark hair off his forehead, not missing the way she observed his long fingers slipping through them.

"Jonathan." They both said at the same time, as the male nodded his head and carefully gripped on the cup he was holding.

"I know." He continued, stepping backwards towards his jeep. "I've met him. Great kid, Lydia."


	2. you never left me no messages

A month was definitely enough time for Stiles to get used to his new job. Not that staying up late or even during the whole night was a problem, he had never been one to sleep that much. No, 3 or 4 hours of sleep were good to keep him healthy, he had always new and different ways to use his time rather than sleeping. _He was a **spaz**._ So, when he stood behind the counter, drying glasses at almost 3 am, it was safe to say he felt fine. Energetic, even. Of course, the loud music was kind of making him feel numb and for once he wished he'd be able to shut out the whole world around him, but that wasn't possible, and so he merely got used to having to live with that. Besides, it was a week day, which meant most people were gone, and eventually he'd be able to close up. 

"I knew it was you." A familiar voice barely reached his ears over the music, but still he turned to face whoever that was. It was impossible not to smile at the sight of his oldest friend, especially when he saw that one, familiar person smiling back at him, as if they hadn't laid eyes on each other for years. Fear of hearing a rather mean opinion from him still lingered in that troubling mind of his, but Stiles smiled, because in the end, what else was he supposed to do? He had been apologising over and over again to his father for the past month, and that didn't help him or them getting any better, or anywhere for that matter. So maybe apologies were overrated. He could do better. And at that moment, a kind smile plastered on his face was the best he got. "Why didn't you come to me? I know you've been back for a while."

"It's not you-" His brows furrowed as he realised what was about to slip through his lips, but considering he couldn't find better, he simply continued. ", it's me?"

"That's cliché." Scott couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips at those words, unable to deny he was feeling that nostalgia that for a very long time destroyed him, and shaking his head, he took a seat on one of the stools and observed the bartender throwing the dishcloth over one of his broad shoulders. At least he had the decency of being uncertain of his own choice of poor words. That made it a lot harder to blame anything on him though. It was always hard to blame him for anything actually, he was one of the good ones. Never did he have bad intentions, so the vet hoped there was a good explanation behind all his wrong, - so wrong, - choices. But he couldn't blame him, not for choosing his own path.

"Lack of better words."

"I see."

"Can I get you anything?" Once again, he was speechless. Not really speechless, just unsure of what to say. That had to be different, right? He was never left speechless with the guy that used to be his best friend. His best friend, the person he looked for when needed. Which was practically all the time. 

"Yeah, sure." The male let out a nervous laugh and shrugged. "Can it be a coke or something, though? Someone won't be happy if I get home this late, after drinking."

"Absolutely - but it's not like alcohol would make any difference on you." 

Turning his back on his friend for a bit, only to grab him a drink, Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and ignored how hard his heart was pounding. No, no anxiety, no panic attacks. He had been preparing himself for that encounter for a while, losing control wasn't a possibility at the moment. Not when he was working anyway, not when he had been able to keep that job for so long and his father was already considering letting him work with him at the station. But Scott was right behind him, looking at him expectantly, surely aware of how he was feeling, and he had never wanted to disappoint his best friend. Though that had already happened, he still didn't want to make it worse. He couldn't make it worse, to the point of no return. He needed the other male, especially when he had been around for a while and yet he still didn't feel welcome, or like he even belonged there anymore. He needed someone to ground him, and Scott had always been the one who managed to do just that.

"I take it you've seen Lydia?" His old friend spoke up once more while wrapping his fingers around his drink. "And Jonathan?"

"Yes." He said simply, too busy cleaning the surface of the counter, even if he had already done that a couple of times before.

"And yet you still didn't come to me?"

"I didn't think you'd want to see me."

"I do." Scott bobbed his head eagerly as soon as the pale boy finally looked up at him. "I always want to see you Stiles. I don't blame you."

"Well, maybe you should."

"But I don't." He replied instantly while poking on one of the ice cubes with his drinking straw. Although he seemed honest, and he was always honest, Stiles didn't feel okay, - or even forgiven, - yet. He figured people could forgive him, but that didn't mean he'd be forgiving himself anytime soon. "I mean, you made a choice. Maybe it was the wrong choice for some people, but if it felt right for you, I can't blame you for that. I just really wish you would have come to me the minute you got here. I missed my best friend."

"You're right, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just.." The wolf took a long sip from his drink as he took a quick glance at everything around him, and smiled softly. "Let's just hang out. I'll help you clean this up and close afterwards, and you will meet me at the animal clinic tomorrow. Jonathan will be there too."

There was no room for discussion, Scott had made his decision, and honestly, Stiles kind of wanted to spend some time with him. And Jay, too. Maybe it would be fun, maybe that was all it took to make him feel better. Besides, his friend didn't demand an explanation, didn't ask for any lame excuse, which made him think that maybe he was willing to give him another chance after all.

 

* * *

 

It was 4 pm when Stiles parked his jeep next to the animal clinic, and as he made his way inside, he realised that he should probably be asleep. But if Scott could work after spending most of the night talking to his friend, he could make him some company as well. However, he kept wishing, inwardly, that there would be a lot of work at the clinic and he'd manage to take some rest on one of those uncomfortable chairs, with all those different and kind of gross smells making him dizzy. Still, a promise was meant to be kept, and he was there. Almost two hours late, but he was there.

"Stiles."

"Jay." He acknowledged the kid with a nod of his head after placing a white card box in front of him. "I brought you donuts." A laugh was heard, and he quickly twirled on his heels to wherever that sound came from, only to see his old friend giggling, - like a school girl, really - to a bunch of papers. Both his brows rose in expectation, as he waited for the other male to share whatever reason was that got him so amused.

"You keep feeding him sugar. Lydia will kill you."

"I figured you'd say that. Well, not you-" He waved his hand as if to dismiss the whole thing, before placing the rest of the things that kept his other hand busy onto the desk in front of the kid. "Actually, I expected Lydia to say that, if, you know, she was here. So I brought him milk. And water. That's healthy, right?"

"He'll still be eating the donuts, Stiles. The harm is done either way."

"Yeah, but at least I was both responsible and fun."

"You mean irresponsible?"

"No, I meant fun." He nodded, quite proud of himself, and took a seat next to the child. "So, what's up?"

"I'm doing homework." The boy answered with his mouth full. "Uncle Scott says that once I'm done, he will let me help him with a kitty."

"They bite, and scratch, and growl, and hiss." Stiles said as he did his best to ignore how the kid kept shoving the donut in his mouth the exact same way he usually does. Noticing how Scott rolled his eyes, he shrugged helplessly and continued. "Are you sure you want to help uncle Scott?"

"Yeah, maybe I don't. They bite, and scratch, and growl and hiss." The bartender was smirking proudly at how easy it was to change that kid's mind, though he wasn't sure of how that was possible since they hadn't known each other for long, and he didn't think he could influence his choices that easily, without the least bit of effort. But then again, Jay had been thinking of him as his hero, so there was always going to be that chance of doing such thing. His friend, however, was quite astonished as he observed his nephew, in hopes he'd change his mind once again. "Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay, we'll just do something else."

"Dude!" Scott hissed, taking advantage of the fact Jonathan was paying attention to his homework again. "You come back after 7 years and you're already able to change that kid's mind?"

"What can I say?" He threw his hands up in the air, an innocent smile upon his face. "I'm good with kids."

 

* * *

 

With small arms and legs wrapped tightly around his muscular torso, Stiles stepped inside the hospital and sighed in relief noticing how calm things seemed to be. "Calm", it almost seemed like a joke. Beacon Hills' hospital was never, ever, calm. Still, he approached the nearest nurses' station in order to ask for Lydia, - well, Dr. Martin, - only realising then that she had been standing behind him the whole time, in her scrubs that for some reason only made her look even prettier. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows were arched almost curiously, and for a second he wondered if she was mad. Her son was asleep in his arms, when he should be at home. However, Scott had an emergency and had to stay at the clinic for a while longer, which meant he was their best option to take the kid home. That didn't mean she looked happy about it though, because, clearly, she wasn't.

"I can take him home and wait for you until your shift is done."

"You have to work, Stiles." Her words were harsh, and if he wasn't certain he deserved that, he would have been hurt by them. "Just-"

"No, Lydia. I'm sure they won't need me tonight, and there is no reason why he should be sleeping in a random hospital room that might be needed eventually. Not to mention you shouldn't be leaving before your shift ends either, so I'm your best option."

"First of all, I'm pretty sure we wouldn't come to the point where we'd be out of rooms." She stated, eyeing him suspiciously. "And I'm also certain you have absolutely no saying in whether I leave earlier or not."

"I didn't mean it like that-"

"What makes you think you'll be able to take care of him?"

"Uh, he likes me?"

"Liking you isn't enough, Stiles!" She was exasperated, and it was obvious the reason behind that feeling, that was not only maddening her but saddening her as well, was no longer because he wanted to babysit her child. It was because he insisted on being around him, - both of them really, - and perhaps she didn't know how to deal with that yet.

"He's asleep, I'm sure nothing will happen while he's asleep."

"Oh, you have no idea."

"And even if it does, I will call you immediately." Hazel eyes met amber ones for a moment, causing Stiles to swallow thickly as he tried to ignore the bitter laugh that still echoed through the walls. He missed her, but would that ever be enough to get her back? He knew it wasn't, but that didn't stop him from wishing it was. Not everything was lost though, because eventually, those same hazel eyes were, for the first time, observing the way the two boys were holding onto each other, and she gave in, even if she didn't want to.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." She nodded, turning to leave before she'd regret her choice. "I'll be there as soon as my shift's over."

Jonathan was asleep the whole drive home, which came almost as a surprise to the younger Stilinski. Honestly, how could someone be asleep after being carried around so many times? It was a relief, though, because he really wasn't good with kids, and he was terrified to find out what would have happened if the strawberry blonde's son had woken up eventually. Anything worse than a kid, was definitely a grumpy one.

Wincing at his own thoughts as he carried the boy towards his bedroom, Stiles realised he was becoming fond of him, and it shocked him knowing that he wouldn't mind dealing with many of his moods as long as he got to be around him. Maybe having a kid wasn't that bad, he had dealt with monsters, crazy people, weird supernatural creatures, and yet, he was still safe and sound. Having a kid certainly wasn't bad. 

After changing Jay into his pyjamas, he slowly tucked him in and turned to leave when that familiar tiny hand tugged his once more, forcing him to lay down next to the boy and snuggle him into his chest. And though he really, really tried not to fall asleep, it was too hard to resist closing his eyes.

Lydia got home shortly after midnight, having to deal with one last emergency before heading home, and the thing she came to find once she entered her son's room was someone she had once loved so deeply cuddling her child. She considered waking him up and telling him to go home, she really did. But using the excuse "some people have to work in the morning" simply felt wrong, since he had missed his own shift in order to stay with the kid. Also, she wasn't strong enough to push him away either. She'd much rather let him close once again. And so, instead, she merely removed Stiles' shoes and pulled a blanket over his body before trying to get some sleep as well. 

In the following morning, however, she woke up to see a confused Stiles sitting on her kitchen after making her some coffee. She was strangely quiet at first, letting him gather his thoughts first instead of saying anything at all.

"He's, uh-" He started while fiddling with his mug. "He's getting ready for school."

"Good, I'm running late and I still have to drop him off."

"That's okay mom, Stiles can take me to school." Jay spoke too perkily for anyone in the morning, and Lydia narrowed her eyes at him. "And then, we should go to the zoo. It's funner than staying at the animal clinic."

"Since when anything is funner than the animal clinic, Jonathan?"

"Since I met Stiles."

"Uh."

The brunette considered hiding under the table as soon as those words escaped the small kid's lips. Thinking about the night before, and the way Lydia reacted to him offering to stay with the kid, he wondered if she'd snap at him then and there as well, but she didn't. She merely accepted her son's explanation and turned to face the male, who was literally hiding behind his cup of coffee.

"Can I trust you?"

"Of course." He didn't even hesitate to answer, and she smiled. Yeah, things could get so much better.

 

* * *

 

.. or could they? They had been to the zoo, and had just left his house, and Stiles found himself wanting to be the cool uncle. It didn't feel like he had to put too much effort into that, since the kid was pretty much willing to do anything he wanted. He kept telling himself that it was because he was new in his life, and also because he had saved him from being hit by a car. Well, maybe, Jay may have been a smart kid, but he was only a kid after all, and he surely didn't see things the same way. Still, he was enjoying spending time with him. The child seemed to have the same sense of adventure he had, and he was as eager as he was to find out new things. 

"And did you know wolves run on their tiptoes?"

"You really like wolves, don't you?"

"Yes." The boy giggled slightly, "Mom says it's weird, so it's okay if you think so too." Right, weird. His innocence was something else entirely. Stiles missed something like that in his life. 

"What about your dad?"

Jay's smile widened brightly as he eyed his new friend while he drove them both back home, with the promise of making them both hot cocoa and then reading him a story before he went to sleep. That was one question the bartender had been dying to ask as soon as he found out Lydia had a kid. His dad had literally dismissed the subject as if it didn't matter, and asking her was just crazy. Things were already awkward enough between them, and he couldn't exactly say she already trusted him with her son. So approaching her and asking who was his father was definitely not an option, not if he was willing to be in her life once again.

"We don't talk about dad." He said simply, causing Stiles to shut his eyes for a quick second and wince. Definitely not a good idea to ask a 6 year old about a father he apparently didn't know.

When they walked inside the Martin's house, Jonathan ran into his bedroom to change to his pyjamas while Stiles prepared them both two mugs of hot cocoa. He had already fed him dinner at his place, knowing that Lydia wouldn't get home early and he had school the morning after. Settling him on the bed, and sitting next to him, he opened the book the boy had handed him and began reading the story quietly. As suspected, he was asleep in less than five minutes, so the brunette got up cautiously and placed the book on the shelf, only then noticing a familiar picture. It was him, and his parents, and he wasn't much older than Jay when they took it, - probably the reason why the younger boy hadn't recognised him. Still, it was rather interesting the fact that kid had one of his family photographs, until he came to the realisation there was only one reason why he had it.

Hearing the front door being opened, the sheriff's son stormed out of the room to meet the doctor in the kitchen as a heavy breath escaped his lips. No, it couldn't be. Scott would have told him, so would his dad. Unless they didn't know? But they had to know, because it had been 6 years, and that was an awful amount of time to keep such a heavy secret. Deep, dirty secret, that could break him whether it was true or not.

"Am I his dad?" Lydia turned to face him, clearly startled. "Answer me Lydia, is he mine?"


	3. between the lines of fear and blame, you begin to wonder why you came

"Stiles-"

There is a pause, - one which you could define as you asking yourself if you're doing the right thing, but then you remember that to do the right thing, you'd have to know what that right thing was and, let's face it, that wasn't his case. But still, he stared at her as if, for a moment, that would have been enough to get all the answers to the questions that kept tormenting his mind, and then he noticed he no longer possessed that strong ability to know everything that was going through her mind by only looking at her. He lost that ability, he lost her, he lost _everything_. 

"Tell me, is he mine?" He was in no place to demand absolutely anything, which infuriated him more than he could explain. Not that he was exactly mad at her, but himself, because he was the one turning his back on everything a few years back. He couldn't demand anything, except he could, because if the kid was his, he had, at the very least, the right to know that. Right? There had to be something somewhere that said he had the right to know whether he was a father or not.

"No Stiles, he's mine. I raised him, remember?" She spoke harshly, and he really wanted his anger to be directed at her, God knows he tried, but the only thing he felt was frustration, and when those hazel green eyes he had learned to love, - purely, truly love instead of loving the idea of love, - were hidden behind heavy, cruel tears, he once again felt mad at himself. Not her, not the world, just himself because there was a chance the child was his, but there was another chance that he wasn't his, but in both ways he was just eliciting a bigger pain on her that she surely did not deserve, - hell, even he deserved better at that point.

"You know that's not what I meant -"

"Do I?" She interjected, waving her hands in the air desperately as she took a few, small steps backwards into the farthest room to Jay's. Which, ironically, was the living room, - probably the room where they conceived him years ago if he was indeed his. "I was here, while you were God knows where. I found some sort of weak strength, which sounds kind of incoherent and makes me feel absolutely insane, but then again, that was exactly how I felt. And while I accepted the fact you'd much rather heal yourself, or find your damn way far away from all of us, you might as well accept what I had to go through as well. It's about time you realise you were _not_ the only one _hurting_ , Stiles." Her words stung, but he still did his best to ignore them and get to the actual point again.

"You're still not answering my question."

"Just like you haven't answered any of mine, and yet I'm not pushing you until you're frustratingly upset and being honest, though might be your only way, makes you even angrier!"

"We were surrounded by death." He murmured angrily, not dropping her gaze, because if he did, he would certainly lose all the courage he had suddenly found to tell her how he really felt. She gaped at him for just a second, as if that wasn't a good explanation. And really, it wasn't. "Everywhere we turned, we would have to face death. And yes, we had each other, we had the whole pack, even if it was only to strengthen each other. But every time we lost something, or someone, it robbed us a piece of ourselves each time. And in all honestly-" He laughed bitterly, finally looking away as he paced back and forth like a mad man. "at a certain point, I felt like I had nothing more to give. Nothing more that could be stolen from me."

"That's your excuse? You had me!" She watched him, realising that she had been eager to hear each of his excuses and explanations, and when she found herself living that moment, she wished he would have kept it all to himself. She was so, so scared to see him differently. Scared to see him as someone selfish, something he wasn't. No, he was the most selfless person she had ever met, and though, running away wasn't something he used to do, she wanted to believe that it had been his best option before. "You know, I expected that from everyone. Honestly Stiles, not everyone is capable of going through what we lived for so many years together. I expected everyone to run away from their lives, their problems. Everyone but you. Because you were the best one, of them all, of all of us. It's like, you kept us together. You had no supernatural abilities, and you were possibly the weakest of all of us... except you weren't. You had the strength to keep us together. You were brave enough to help us facing every bit of that horrible pain, and fear, back then. **You** , you were the one I not only wanted, but thought you'd stick around. And you didn't."

"It hurt me as much as it hurt all of you, Lydia-"

"I'm not saying it didn't hurt you." She cut him off, "I'm saying I just didn't expect you to go. And you didn't visit, you certainly didn't call."

"I couldn't, - I couldn't because every time I tried-"

"No, no! You didn't try. You didn't try hard enough!" She pointed out at him accusingly, watching him breathe heavily in frustration.

"Would you let me talk?"

"All I'm saying is that if you had tried hard enough, you would have been here before. We would have had this conversation already. And I-" The strawberry blonde shook her head desperately while turning her back on him, refusing to face him as tears slipped free and she wiped them almost angrily. No, she shouldn't let herself cry in front of him. Being weakened by his presence was already frustrating enough, letting him see her cry, - or, God forbid, letting him comfort her, - was just too much. Way too much. "I wouldn't have to try so hard to hate you when it's clear that despising you for your choice isn't an option."

"Is it that hard to hate me?"

"Oh, it's horrible." With one of her hands glued to her hips while the other one dried her tears, she slowly faced him once more and a soft, yet still forced, smile appeared on her face. Her beautiful face.

Then, he simply stared at her. He looked at her, in that intense way of his that always made her knees weak, and as she gave herself permission to glare back at him, she noticed how tiny, and frightened he looked. In a way he never did before, and she really, really wanted to merely wrap her arms around him, and embrace him tight, - so tight, - for the first time after such a long time. Tugging at the hem of his shirt, Stiles nipped hard on his lower lip and released a soft sigh. Maybe he was in no position to make demands, maybe it wasn't worth it, but he had to know. He just had to know. Because if he didn't, he'd drive himself crazy, and anything worse than an anxious, panicky Stiles, was a crazy Stiles. Or, of course, anything worse than a Stiles that ran away from his problems, was one that drove himself crazy because of them. 

"Is he mine?"

"No." She stated, grunting at how hard she meant to sound firm, but didn't.

"No, I can't-" A sob broke free as he stared down at his feet, and if she had succeeded on holding back her own tears before, she would have certainly started crying at the sight of that. It's not that she meant to hurt him the way he hurt her, she just couldn't see him blaming himself. She couldn't deal with self-destructive Stiles that denied every chance at happiness, because he was too busy loathing himself for all the chances he could have had but still _lost_. "I refuse to believe that the first thing you did the minute I disappeared was to be with someone else. I refuse, I can't-"

"Stiles-" Lydia approached him until she was standing right in front of him, and he cupped her cheeks in both his palms. His thumbs caressed her skin under her eyes, wiping her tears away as he let his own flow freely. He was literally begging her to tell him the truth, but she could see right through him. She could see how scared he was of her honesty, even though he practically pleaded her for it.

"Is he-" He whispered weakly, stopping himself as he observed the way she nodded her head affirmatively. "He's mine. I'm his - I'm a dad. Oh, wow."

His hands had dropped at his sides once those words escaped his lips, and though a wave of happiness washed over him, a part of him was absolutely terrified as well. Yes, Jonathan loved him so far, of that he was certain. But that was mostly because he didn't know the truth before, and even if he was only a kid yet, he was somehow old enough to understand he had a father that could have been there for him, but wasn't. And for a moment, he wished he could be mad at everyone that had had the opportunity of telling him the truth, and yet they didn't. Yet, every time he was about to get really, truly, angry, images of the time he had already spent with his son filled his mind and anger wasn't something he could feel at the moment. He had a son. A son he had already learned to love without even knowing of that new role he had to take over. That was sincerely crazy. How did that happen? _You know how that happened, Stiles. Don't be so naive._

Stepping away from her, he quickly left the room and headed towards the boy's bedroom instead. He stood at the entrance for a few, - honestly long, - seconds, simply watching Jay asleep. Eventually, he sat on the small bed and pulled the kid on his lap, running his fingers through smooth dark hair as he leaned back against the headboard and smiled. Actually smiled, like he meant it, for the first time in a while. Because when his nails scraped against his scalp, his son let out a content sigh, much like his mother used to do, and that made him feel strangely happy. His son. He had a son. He kept repeating those words in his head, nonstop, because it felt surreal. It was always going to feel surreal. He didn't deserve a kid like that. 

"I felt so selfish." She said quietly after standing at the foot of the bed. Her arms were wrapped safely around herself, showing exactly how insecure she felt at the moment. "I felt terrible having to keep that from you, because you had the right to know. He was yours, as well as mine. But you never called... you just never called."

"Does my dad know?"

"Yes." Lydia noticed how he just wouldn't take his eyes off their child, and though they weren't in a good place, it still made her smile. "So does Scott. And Allison. And pretty much everyone else that were close to us back then, since I found out I was pregnant shortly after you left. It's just," He finally looked up at her, and she shrugged as she spoke even quieter, if that was possible. "He doesn't know, Stiles. And so they didn't tell you."

"I'm sorry." The male's tone of voice was clearly honest, and she could see that, which brought her a great relief. "I should have been there, and I wasn't. But you did a great job, he-" He grinned unconsciously while fondling the same dark hair with the pads of his fingers. "He's so great."

"He really is."

"And thank you."

"What for?" She frowned at those words, as if none of that made sense to her.

"For not keeping him away from me when you clearly could have."

She merely bobbed her head in agreement, but still dismissed those words with a wave of her fingers. Truth was, she could never keep them away from each other, not when she had always intended to have them both. And even though she felt like she would still be undeniably mad at him the morning after, she was happy to see that he was exactly where he belonged.

His hand tapped gently on an empty side of Jonathan's bed, and she realised he was practically asking her to lay next to them. That brought a smile to her face, which actually caused him to grin as well, as if knowing that he had a family wasn't enough to do that.

"The bed is too small for all of us." She whispered teasingly, yet slipped under the covers next to their baby anyway. 

"We've slept in smaller places."

"Shut up." He grinned brightly, letting his hand meet hers under the blankets after she curled one of her arms around Jonathan's small body. Yeah, he definitely felt like he belonged once again.


	4. lost and insecure you found me

The bright sunlight creeped inside the room, lighting it up perfectly consequently showing how beautiful that morning truly was. Not only because it was a delightful sunny day, but also because a young boy had just reunited with his father, though he really didn't know that yet. It almost didn't matter that it was still somewhat a secret, the feeling was _there_ , because really, it's not everyday that you wake up with your parents in your tiny, tiny bed, sleeping beside you. Even though you don't know that male laying beside you is your father yet. The feeling is still _there_ , that was obvious by the way the man held his family in his arms as tight as he could. But no, you really don't know that yet. You might kind of suspect it, but you don't know that yet. It felt good, anyway, so it honestly didn't matter if it was still a secret. Kind of a secret.

A sharp elbow came in contact with Stiles' chest in a rather quick yet strong motion, causing him to roll over and fall on the floor with a grunt. Two pairs of hazel eyes blinked lazily at the sound, and when noticing what had just happened, Jonathan's brows were furrowed as he glanced over at his mother, who was doing her best to hold back a chuckle. Being an innocent kid, he quickly dismissed the whole thing, believing that was probably his pure imagination tricking him, as he stretched lazily, his fist landing on his mother's head this time, while one of his feet kicked her off the bed as well. This time, a cry was heard and he quickly sat up on his bed, peeking down at each side of it a couple of times until he realised what was happening. "Don't you think my bed is too small for all of us?" Definitely his mother's son. There was no doubt that he was as grumpy as Lydia in the morning, and his father almost laughed at that, but did a good job holding it in. His eyes were narrowed suspiciously, and though he was curious to know why his room was crowded, he chose to ignore it. Too lazy, sleepy, and even hungry to talk. "Mommy's bed is bigger, you should have just slept there."

He literally stepped on his father's legs on his way out after hopping off the bed, which forced the poor male to grunt, once again, in pain. The strawberry blonde sat up on the floor, blowing some locks off her face as the dark haired male jumped on his feet and wiped some drool off his face. Crinkling her nose in disgust, she could no longer hold back her laughter as it slipped off her lips until she was practically breathless, releasing high pitched screams in the meantime. Stiles simply stood there, watching her with both his hands glued at his hips, as if that situation was in no way amusing to him. "I'm sorry, I know, it's-" Hysterical giggles kept escaping her luscious lips, and he had to force himself to look anywhere else but them. No, he couldn't allow himself to even think about them, or he'd end up being his awkward self that was in love with that girl since he could remember, and even if that kind of love never really weakened him, it somehow clouded his judgement. He just wouldn't be able to even be around her if he had the luxury to fantasise about that woman, like he very much did for most of his life. A line had to be crossed, or he would mess everything up.

"Funny?"

"Yes." An even louder chuckle found its way out of her mouth, and he practically grumbled under his breath. "This is feeling even worse than that one time when your dad caught us in the backseat of your jeep-"

"Ah. Ah. Ah." He held out his forefinger, silencing her immediately while his chocolate colored eyes roamed through the hallway. "There is a kid in the house, let's not talk about our embarrasing adult experiences."

"Adult?" For some reason that made her laugh even harder, and he found himself wondering if she was in shock - that was the only plausible explanation for her rude behaviour.

"I'm sorry, are you having a stoke?" He questioned while squinting his eyes at her. Yes, they were the grumpy ones in the morning, not him. Only Lydia and their son would have the worst kind of moods in the morning, not him. He was able to wake up genuinely happy, but that certainly didn't happen when he got attacked by his 6 year old child. Especially if the mother of his child would find that so amusing, she wouldn't be able to quit laughing. "Is that how a stroke looks like?"

"You - He -" Giggling uncontrollably, Lydia clapped her hands together in a comic way, and the sheriff's son wasn't able not to laugh anymore either. A soft, happy chuckle escaped his lips as well as she dried the tears that were starting to form at the corner of her eyes with her sleeve. "You still drool."

"I-" And just like that, his laughter died as quick as it had come. "And you're crazy!" He stormed out the room, causing her to let out another loud laugh as she tried to get up on her feet as well, succeeding at her third attempt after falling on her butt each time. It was unsaid, but she could certainly wake up to that every morning if she had to, she really wouldn't mind at all. 

 

* * *

 

When she walked inside the kitchen, she noticed how her son and his father were already halfway through their breakfast, with a whole mess of cereal. With her brows furrowed, she watched them silently, trying to understand the reason behind that mess until she saw it, - cereal flew out of the younger dark haired boy's hand into his father's mouth, and she found herself growling. Out loud. Which got her a few frightened stares.

"That's food, boys! You don't play with food!" As a reply to those words, - mean words spoken in such a mommy way that they almost laughed, - Stiles threw cereal in her direction, and she quickly caught it with her mouth, yelping at her achievement.

"Yeah," He shrugged, hearing his son laughing in response. "Eat your food, don't play with it."

Lydia rolled her eyes sarcastically, doing her best not to let it tease her so they wouldn't start bickering once again, something that seemed to happen a lot when around each other. Her scowl quickly turned into a bright smirk, however, when she noticed that he had coffee ready for her, and as she grabbed the pot and poured some in a mug, she began talking to the both of them, - mainly to Stiles, honestly, - not bothering with turning to face him. 

"I took the day off, so maybe we could just head to the park after lunch?" The small boy's face lit up at the idea, and with a quick nod of his head, he began rambling excitedly about showing Stiles a few tricks he had developed on the swing. She finally turned around and leaned back against the kitchen counter, happy to see the two most important men in her life interacting with too much enthusiasm that they didn't even notice they were being watched the whole time. And though she wasn't ready to admit how important Stiles still was to her, that didn't mean his presence didn't affect her in ways she had hoped to be able to block out since the minute she knew he was back. But he was important, and special to her. Not only because he was the father of her child, not because he was the one who had risked his life countless times to save hers, not because he had done the best he could to show her how true love really felt like, and certainly not because she felt anxious, nervous, out of breath, undeniably happy, completely mad, and sometimes even insecure, when he was around. No, he still meant the world to her because he was always going to have that effect on her. And as she noticed the way his facial expression would turn from a frown, into a tiny, beautiful smile, - in which only one of the corners of his mouth curled up shyly, - she finally realised how much she had missed everything about him. Including all of his weird, yet still adorable, quirks, and she would have much rather make him happy, than make herself happy. 

Slowly, he ripped his gaze away from their son, and let it land on Lydia's face instead. It was beyond obvious that she was lost in her own, little world, thinking about everything, and probably even nothing at all, and he knew, - in that right moment, - that there was absolutely nothing more beautiful than the way she looked as she contemplated everything that maybe didn't even matter that much, deep down. Either way, he stared for a bit, - scolding himself mentally for the fact the boy was still talking to him and he was too lost in her to even notice that, - until her hazel eyes met his brown ones and he swallowed thickly. Crap, it was starting to feel like they were back in 3rd grade and he had just seen her for the first time, and even if he really didn't understand what she made him feel, he somewhat knew it had to be something alike love, because once her lips formed one of the most beautiful smiles he had ever seen, he found himself unconsciously smiling back. As if he lived for that, - and deep down, he did. He lived for her. He always had. Even when miles away, living on a lonesome apartment, away from the people he once needed to be able to breathe.

"Well, in that case, I'm just gonna go home real quick, take a shower and change, and then we can go."

"No need Stiles, I can lend you some of my clothes, like you once did with your jacket."

"A jacket I haven't seen ever since." He spoke teasingly, which got the small boy giggling while Lydia blushed slightly, - that was also enough to distract him from the conversation for a while, and he almost fell in the temptation of asking her why, but soon realised that it was probably a bad idea. "Anyway, I appreciate your gesture, you're very kind, Jay. But I'm just a tiny bit taller than you."

"Not that much, though." The kid said immediately, and Stiles smiled fondly. No, not that much, and not for long, he thought.

He slowly got up while gathering the dirty dishes in order to place them in the sink, and seeing how domestic that looked, the strawberry blonde squeezed her eyes shut, unsure of how that truly made her feel. It was supposed to be a good thing, if it was the right thing at the moment, if it wasn't too soon, if she still wasn't mad at him. And she couldn't say she didn't want him to be around, because she did. Yet letting him in her world completely, out of nowhere, without the least bit of effort from his part, was terrifying. And though she kept telling herself the only reason why she felt that way was because she still wanted some answers, she knew that wasn't the problem. No, the problem was that he had just found out. She had nine months to get used to the idea, and she had known that life, her kid, for almost seven years. That was, without doubt, the best thing that had ever happened to her. She was young, perhaps too young, when she began learning to love her child, and her new life, but she had months, and then years, to cope with it all. He had nothing, but a couple of hours, which he had spent sleeping. He had to get used to the idea, to know that life, to acknowledge the boy, and learn to love it, in only a matter of seconds. And for a second, she couldn't help but wonder, if that was what he had imagined himself doing. Maybe it wasn't.

"I can do that." Lydia murmured while curling her fingers around one of his wrists, forcing him to look up at her from the sink. "You've done enough. Go Stiles, we'll be here when you're ready." 

Those words were kind, too kind, and he found himself questioning if it had a meaning other than the one she expected him to understand. But he didn't ask, he merely nodded and stepped back, - as if approaching the subject would scare her and she'd take off running. No, he couldn't ask. So, after running his long fingers through the boy's hair, he winked at him and walked out. Except, this time, when he walked out, it was with the unspoken promise of coming back.

 

* * *

 

It was nearly 3 pm when he approached that familiar house's front door, - she had called him shortly after they had lunch, telling him she had an emergency and had to run back to the hospital, and when he was about to be disappointed, though he had tried not to, thinking she was probably cancelling their plans, Lydia assured him she would be ready as quick as possible. Big, hazel eyes watched him carefully once the door was thrown open, and he couldn't help but smirk. Jonathan was holding a pair of sneakers in one of his hands, whilst the other one dragged the lost jacket, the one they had mentioned in the morning, on the floor. With a tilt of his head, the boy was almost pouting as he opened his mouth to speak, and Stiles quickly realised he had probably had that conversation with his mother long before he appeared, and that was the reason why he was already upset. 

"Will you tie my shoes?" He started, "I asked mom but she says I will need to learn to do it on my own eventually." Wow, that was unexpected. Not that he was surprised that a 6 year old couldn't tie his shoes, because honestly, there were moments in which he wondered if he could tie his own. It was actually the fact that, though he hadn't been there for the first time he started talking, or he wasn't there to help him giving his first steps, or his first day of school, he still got to do something. To, maybe, even teach him something eventually.

"Of course, and don't worry, if mom asks I will tell her you did it." That was all it took to see that adorable smile returning to the kid's lips, and after grabbing the jacket he had been helpless to hold, the sheriff's son knelt in front of him and finally helped him with the sneakers. "You can also keep the jacket, I don't mind."

"Thank you." Jay mumbled, his arms finding their way around his father's neck to pull him in a tight hug. 

They had left the house a few minutes after the hug that had Stiles almost tearing up. Yes, they had hugged before, but in none of those times had he known or even imagined that he was his father, and so for some reason, it felt different, - a lot better. Both parents were sitting on a bench, watching their kid interacting with other children, and none of them talked for a while. Jay had glanced up at the male and asked him if he could have some ice cream, something that he hadn't dared to ask his mother because he knew that it would take him a lot to convince her while Stiles would be okay with it right away. Of course, he did find himself staring at the strawberry blonde, as if quietly asking for permission, but was helpless to resist the child's dimples that were so much alike Lydia's. So, when Jay did get his ice cream, and finished it, they leaned back and were happy to observe him playing.

His fingers were tightly wrapped around the cup of coffee that hadn't been warm for a very long time, but he still held it as if his life depended on it. His eyes were glued on his son though, but he still could hear the steady breathing coming from the woman sitting beside him, that had him almost believing she was okay, if he hadn't also heard the way she tapped her fingernails on the cup she was holding as well. She always did think too _loud_.

"Just ask." He murmured, knowing her mind was filled with thoughts that were slowly turning into questions, - questions that were torturing her.

"Why?" The desperate tone in her voice assured him that her question wasn't directed to his words, but to his actions. 

"I remember how we were both in charge of researching as usual, while Scott and Allison tried to follow that creature's tracks. You had just asked me to meet Deaton at the clinic because he'd know what could help us, neither of us realising I had been poisoned by it. I only noticed when I started having hallucinations, and I actually only realised I was having them when I started seeing my mother everywhere." Memories of their last encounter with a supernatural creature together popped up in her mind, and she gulped, not only remembering what had happened next, but also the fact he had disappeared after that. "At a certain point, I didn't know what was real or not. Especially when I started seeing you."

"Me?"

_"Lydia." His eyes were filled with tears as he watched the scene before him. He knew that had to be some sort of dream, - hallucination, anything, - because of the way she refused to look at him, to be touched by him. She'd flinch away every time he approached her, she'd squeeze her eyes shut and wince when only the pads of his fingers came in contact with her skin, burning through her and shooting an unfamiliar pain across her already weak body. It was almost like his presence alone was causing her too much pain, and he could only wonder why._

_"You're poison." She murmured coldly, and for the first time he actually realised that couldn't be happening. No, it wasn't real, because she was never that cold. Lydia Martin had never had the ability to be that cold, not even when she wouldn't acknowledge him, not even when he was nothing but the awkward kid who was in love with the popular girl. Back when she was known to be ruthless, unkind, only concerned about her image, but she was more. So much more. Only those who didn't know her thought she was that bad, when she wasn't. She was brilliant. And so, upon hearing that, he knew that couldn't be real. "We all are. But you, -" Her facial expression was neutral, as if she didn't care about what was slipping out of her mouth. "You are the worst of them all. You, who have a chance, and let yourself in this. You that put us all through all of it, you that don't care about surviving. You that don't even let yourself be saved."_

_"No."_

_"You that force us into all kinds of awkward situations, looking for supernatural activities instead of merely accepting quiet times."_

_"No, no-" He shook his head a couple of times in denial, staring at his feet instead of facing whoever that was. That image of someone he loved so deeply, but that's all it was. An image, because she was nothing like that. Still, it broke him, and somehow, he almost started to believe that was indeed real after all. Maybe he deserved that. That pain. That hopelessness "My Lydia would never say that."_

_"Your Lydia? Yours?" There it was again, the cold tone in her voice. The cruelty. How it practically felt like a sharp knife was being pushed through his chest. "Maybe if you would just ask me, I would tell you how I really feel..."_

_"She does, she tells me everyday."_

_He kept denying every possibility of that being real, not wanting it to be real. He couldn't accept that the woman he had been in love with was the woman that was willing to break him in return._

_"Why won't you just let me die?"_

_"No, - NO!" This time, he looked up at her and met those hazel eyes, eyes that were full of sadness and despair - and **emptiness**. And just like that, he believed that was real after all. He delivered himself to the chaos, handed himself over to the pain and accepted that, perhaps, he didn't deserve love after all. _

"Lydia, -" He shook his head slowly, and let out a soft sigh. "It didn't matter I was under the influence of that monster's power, it didn't matter I had no idea of what was happening around me, it didn't matter I didn't know what was real, or if my mind was playing tricks on me. Not to me! Because I was the one who nearly killed her."

_A loud gasp mixed with a sob found its way out of Stiles' mouth once he snapped out of the mind-control, the first thing he saw being Allison's lips covered in her own blood, her brown eyes shut forcingly by the deep pain that rushed through her body, and as if he could feel it, as if her pain was his own, he quickly released the weapon he had been holding, the one he believed he had pushed through her, and threw himself onto his back. Fear covered his features as he watched the way Scott barely caught her on her way to the floor, and seeing the despair that was clearly written all over his best friend's face, he found himself not being able to breathe. Had he done that? Yes, it was his fault._

_"Allison.." The alpha husked, before a loud cry was heard and he had to force himself to rip his gaze away from the girl to see who it came from._

_"Stiles." She whispered, somehow ignoring her pain, pretending it wasn't there. "Help him."_

"I only found out she hadn't died after I came back." He said after pulling himself out of his haze. "I almost killed one of my best friends."

"You didn't do it."

"Lydia, -"

"No, Stiles." She reached out and grabbed one of his hands in her own, interlacing their fingers almost unconsciously as her eyes met his. "I'm not saying that because you weren't you - to try and ease your pain. I'm telling you this, because you didn't do it." With his brows furrowed, he reluctantly dropped his gaze to their joined hands and chose to let her talk instead of interrupting and forcing them into a fight. "He had us backed against a wall, the only people that weren't under his control were Allison, Deaton, and somehow you. You were under his influence, but Allison managed to break you out of it by attacking him and distracting him from the hold he had over you. Deaton wasn't there, so he was fine. Anyway, we knew he was controlling your mind, and when you were freed from it, you lunged forward in order to stop him from hurting Allison. But he touched you, and so he poisoned you again, and you were out of it until Deaton killed him. That was why the first thing you saw when you broke yourself free again was her, almost dying. And no one blamed you, no one could blame you, especially Scott."

"I-"

"Stiles, you were weakened when you were hallucinating. Your weakness was its strength. The more it kept you under its influence, the worse you began feeling. You passed out shortly after being freed from that other dimension your mind was, and while Allison was helped, saved, you were kept under observation. Scott stood by your side, or even held you, most of the time until you finally woke up. No one blamed you for that, no one but yourself."

"Because I didn't know."

"Because you didn't know." She nodded, scolding herself for not being able to stop herself from crying at that moment. "You were our biggest concern, until, of course, Allison was injured. And you were the first person she asked for when she woke up, and you were gone. You didn't visit, or return any of our calls, so none of us could bring you back. You didn't even let us prove you that we needed you, that you belonged here, with us. And I was so mad at you, I wanted to hate you so bad, because you didn't even let me help you with your pain."

Slowly, he lifted one of his hands and tried to wipe her tears away, only to have it pushed back onto his lap. He really, really tried not to feel hurt by that, and it was a lot easier not letting it get to him when he felt the way she was fondling his knuckles with her thumb.

"Allison was the first one understanding why you had to do that, then Scott." Her teeth captured her lower lip, only to bite it nervously, something that Stiles had missed dearly. "But I was so mad at you, until I wasn't anymore, because apparently those feelings aren't quite healthy for a pregnant woman." A soft chuckle escaped his lips, and relief coursed through her body as she smiled as well.

"Where is she then?"

His eyes held the same fear they had a few years back, and she found herself wondering, only for a second, if it was wise to keep talking about that. She figured that he deserved to know, and that in a way, he had to know, so he could stop being so hard on himself. But, at the same time, she also felt like it wasn't exactly her story to tell.

"When I found out I was pregnant, my first instinct was to find you. But I couldn't. I didn't tell anyone at first, because I thought that if the father didn't know, no one else had the right to know, but Scott found out a couple of months later." A small, nostalgic smile appeared across her lips, and he wondered how had that happened that somehow seemed to make her so happy. "He heard two heartbeats, which at first came to me as some sort of relief. For some reason, I hadn't felt pregnant at first, as if I was denying myself the pleasure of it because you weren't there." Guilt took over his features, but was quickly forgotten as she continued her story. "He thought he was hearing things at first, but eventually he decided to confront me with it. And I have to say, it was amusing seeing the look on his face when I told him that it was true, I was pregnant. I kept wondering if you had been there, if you would have reacted the same way. Anyway, we tried really hard to stay out of anything supernatural related at first, because none of us would stand another loss. However, Scott and I realised we couldn't just forget who we were, push our nature aside. And in a way, Allison couldn't either. So we got involved when we had to get involved, and she goes hunting with her father when needed."

That seemed to be a good answer, because he smiled, and after giving her hand a firm squeeze, he quickly turned to face their son once again, who was currently kicking a soccer ball around with some friends. He was oddly quiet though, and Lydia wished she could know exactly what was going through his mind. But every time she opened her mouth to make any question at all, she would quickly close it again and leave it be. Until it all became too much, and she noticed how tears were slowly forming in his eyes while the corners of his mouth curled upwards only a little. Happy tears, she could only hope.

"What did you see? When you were hallucinating?"

"It doesn't matter," He whispered before kissing the back of her hand tenderly. "I'm right where I need to be."

 

* * *

 

With a beer in hand, Stiles stood by the kitchen island as he heard the sound of cartoons that came from another room, where Jonathan had been since they went back home. Lydia was quiet, still processing all the recent events that took over her afternoon, while she cut some vegetables. None of them dared to say anything at first, - she was too lost in the depths of her mind, and he was happy to give her some time to handle everything.

"Am I poison? To you?"

"What?" She finally faced him since they had stepped a foot inside the house, and as his words began to sink in, she realised that though he had asked that, he seemed to feel it. He believed himself to be bad, especially to her, and it made her wonder if that had been what he had seen or heard in those hallucinations. Of course it was. "Oh, Stiles..."

"Do I overwhelm you? Smother you?"

"Stiles..."

"No, just-" Sighing softly, he took a step back every time she took one toward him. "Just tell me, please."

"You weren't only the best thing that happened to me, you also gave me the best thing I have. We have gone through so much, we have gone through more than an ordinary couple ever will in 50 years. And yes, it isn't always easy, and I honestly doubt it ever will be easy. But that's what made us, us. You fought for me when I didn't think I needed anyone fighting for me, and I loved you, deeply, when you believed I never would. You're not poison, you don't overwhelm or smother me. You found me, you keep finding me." His eyes softened slightly, and finally, the fear that had been haunting them for so long was gone. He had found his way back home, and he was welcomed by those he once thought he didn't deserve. 

Stepping forward, he was able to sense the way Lydia sighed in relief, and a soft grin spread across his face at the fact that she hated the distance between them almost as much as he did. He slipped his hands across her arms, his eyes following his movements silently before cupping her cheeks in his palms as her eyes, once again, closed slowly.

"You know I'm all in, right?" And when he was about to believe that they could be okay, she opened her eyes and glanced at him with a sad smile, before pulling away from him. All because those insecurities she had been feeeling earlier got the best of her, and it was too hard for her to believe he wanted that as much as she did.

"You don't have to be, if you don't want to be."

"I want it," He approached her once more until her body was trapped between his own, and the kitchen counter, not giving her much space to escape once again, and bury herself in silly fears that would only bring them apart. "I want this." He signalled between the two of them with one of his hands, as the other one grasped onto the counter.

"I want you, and Jonathan. I want all of it." He continued, and she nodded in agreement, showing him her typical please-shut-up-and-kiss-me facial expression which he was more than happy to comply.

The male leaned closer, not letting himself touch her this time though, too scared she'd run away. Instead, he kept one of his hands on the surface of the counter while he pressed his other one on the cabinets above her head. Their faces were mere inches apart from each other, and he could already feel her breathing tickling his skin. Their lips brushed only slightly when he finally pressed his body against hers, her fingers coming up to wrap around one of his wrists while tiny feet padded silently into the room. 

"Mom, -" The kid's voice, too cheerful for their taste, brought them both apart. Stiles stumbled backwards against one of the chairs and nibbled nervously on his fingernail while looking down at his feet. "Well, this is awkward." Jay finally continued when he realised what was going on, and both adults stared sheepishly at him. "Cool.. I'm telling uncle Scott." He sounded way too proud over the situation, and that was more than enough to force a laugh out of his parents' mouths.

"Cool?" The sheriff's son mumbled, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Cool." She agreed. 


	5. I would have stayed up with you all night, had I known how to save a life

His eyes landed on the water, staring at the moonlight reflection that was laid across it, as he wandered silently around the lake, only stopping a few feet away from the front door. Scott had told him Lydia had a few things that needed fixing at her lake house, and so he decided to offer help instantly, completely out of instinct. Not that she knew, otherwise she wouldn't have let him do anything at all, it wasn't his job to fix something her mother had refused to fix long before that and there was also that part of her that wished she would be able to keep some other parts of her life intact, that though once touched by him, not recently occupied by everything that was _him_. Still, he wanted to help, and in a way, his friend knew that he was still trying to make it up to the other woman, which meant that even if he had tried to stop him, Stiles would have done it either way, so the best decision was clearly handing him the keys and letting him do whatever he wanted.

With a warm cup of black coffee cradled in one of his calloused hands, he dug the other one in one of the pockets of his sweatpants, enjoying the quietness that surrounded him as if he hadn't been able to really enjoy silence for a long time. And in all honesty, he hadn't. Ever since he had left Beacon Hills, he had done his very best to make sure there was as much noise as he could get in his life, in order to stop himself from missing people he had opted to leave behind. He enjoyed the noise, crowded places, confusion, _chaos_. For the past years, it made him feel like he wasn't alone, when really, he was. But he was back, he had been welcomed in his old, and somewhat new, life, and though things weren't entirely fixed yet, he couldn't say he was unhappy. Or empty. Or alone. He was certainly feeling fulfilled in ways he hadn't for a very long time, and he couldn't feel alone or unhappy when he was lucky enough to have a perfect family. A family that was going to be his, and only his, soon enough. 

A sudden, unexpected and unfamiliar noise filled his ears and he quickly turned around in order to find the source of it. For some reason, his troubled past should at least have given him enough preparation that he would be frightened at the unwelcoming sound, but it was also that crazy past that had prepared him to be ready for whatever came in his way. Hence, looking around to find who or what that was didn't startle him, quite the opposite. Whatever that was, he would be ready.

.. except he wouldn't. 

Because Stiles Stilinski, the Sheriff's son, the true alpha's best friend, the banshee's boyfriend, the fragile human boy that was a part of a supernatural pack, was indeed ready for any threat. Nothing could scare him that easily anymore, he had seen enough. But that one boy, who had grown to be such a brave, and wonderful man, was always going to struggle when it came to his own feelings. And whatever feeling was involved in seeing someone from the past, that was something he couldn't easily deal with. Especially when it included forgiveness.

_"Wait, why can't I go with Scott? Or with you? Why is it that Lydia and I are always the one behind a computer, finding information that can be helpful, crucial, or whatever for what we're going through?" His brows were perfectly arched in expectation, thinking that none of his other friends would be able to answer that question. He was willing to do everything he could to be the one out there, instead of the one inside of a random library. Yet, as two pairs of brown eyes met, he realised it wouldn't be that easy to convince the rest of the group._

_"I'm afraid your sarcastic remarks won't save us from supernatural creatures and their supernatural abilities." Allison stated smugly while grabbing her crossbow, not noticing how Stiles narrowed his eyes at her._

_"I'm pretty sure I could handle one of those," He whispered indignantly, as he pointed out at the weapon in the female's hand. "And I'm also certain I could get us out of any situation with my sarcasm. You may not share the same opinion, Allison, but I've been told I can be pretty charming when I want to be."_

_"Again,-" She huffed, cupping his cheek in a mocking way. "I'm not questioning your charming skills, but I really don't trust you with any kind of weapon. Last time you held my crossbow, you almost killed your best friend."_

_"Well, I wouldn't say killed," He clicked his tongue carelessly, slapping her hand away gently. Both Lydia and Scott had decided to step aside and leave them both be, feeling like being in the middle of that would be way worse than letting Stiles have a gun, or something similar. "I was only testing his reflexes, dear, because in case you haven't noticed, your boyfriend tends to be rather lazy sometimes. A lazy, bad wolf."_

_"I'm not giving you my crossbow, or any other weapon, honestly."_

_"But why?!" He practically whined this time, literally stomping his foot on the floor and the strawberry blonde, who had been leaning against a wall and watching the whole thing, had to laugh at her boyfriend's behaviour._

_"Because anything worse than your lacrosse skills, is definitely this. You would probably end up shooting yourself."_

_"Gee, Ally, you know exactly how to make someone feel good."_

_"Well, you started this." The huntress growled, stepping away from her male best friend as she carefully handed the crossbow to her boyfriend, before it would be stolen from her. Packing the rest of the things they might need, she did her best to ignore how hard the boy was pouting beside her._

_"You always keep us locked in a random room, doing all the boring work!"_

_"Because there is no one that can gather as much information as the two of you can, Stiles. I'm actually praising you here."_

_"You're holding me back!" He whined, throwing both his arms around the girl in a tight embrace. "Please, Allison, just this once."_

_"No!" She groaned, turning around in his arms in order to face him. Once she noticed the way his chocolate coloured eyes teared up, though she figured he was forcing those tears, she instantly cupped his cheeks to wipe them anyway. "Okay, fine!" The other two teens literally widened their eyes in shock, not knowing how he was able to change her mind like that. They certainly expected the brunette to hold on a while longer. "Jesus, what are you? Five?"_

_The Sheriff's son had already pressed a kiss on one of her cheeks and let go of her by the time she said that, a cocky grin finding its way to his face. He approached the banshee and held one of her hands in his, pulling her out of the room as quick as possible before Allison would have second thoughts and find a way to scare him out of going, so they could just do research instead._

_"Works every time." He mumbled, ignoring the way his girlfriend rolled her eyes at him._

_"Can I just shove one of my arrows up his-"_

_"Allison, baby-" Scott cut her off, raising his brows meanwhile. "No, you can't."_

Brown eyes met his own in the darkness, dimples popping out lovingly at the sight of someone she hadn't seen in ages. Her jacket was dropped carelessly onto the back of one chair, and before any words escaped her lips, he had stepped forward, placing his mug on a wooden table in the meantime as he approached the girl, - actually woman, but still someone he was always going to see as his little girl, - and wrapped one of his arms around her waist, cupping the back of her head in his palm as he kissed her forehead tenderly. Smaller arms, but still as strong, were instantly curled around him in a tight embrace, - one that he hadn't felt for so long, one he had feared he was never going to feel again, one he had missed terribly, - and a cry of happiness was heard.

"Oh, god.." He tightened his grip around her, pulling her close as humanly possible. Tears were already forming in his kind eyes, those he had shut at the feeling of holding his best friend. "I thought you were dead."

"Honestly," She swallowed thickly, letting out a sad chuckle against his neck. "I thought you were dead too."

They fell in silence shortly after that, sharing a small laugh before the comforting quietness surrounded them. She had snuggled into his chest, burried her face in his black shirt, much like she had done several times in the past, when none of them knew where Scott was or in how much danger he was in. For some reason, it didn't matter how weak, or even useless, Stiles had been to most people before, she had always found comfort and safety in his embrace. Two of the things she had most missed about him while he was gone. But he was back, and nothing seemed simpler than it had been just a couple of months before, but it certainly felt better.

Her eyes scanned the whole area after she tilted her head only slightly, in order to able to see what he had been doing for the past few days he had been in that house. A sweet, small grin appeared across her lips as she noticed the improvement, realising that there wasn't much that needed to be done anymore. He had certainly put all his efforts into that, and it made her feel so, so proud of the beautiful boy he still was. 

"She's going to love this." She murmured while tugging at his collar before finally pulling away. "But she's still going to kill you... you know that, right?"

"I'm pretty sure that 90% of the things I do will always have that effect on her."

"Yeah," She agreed with a nod of her head after clapping one of her hands against his back. "You know exactly how to annoy someone."

"I thought you missed me?" He teased, raising an eyebrow questioningly meanwhile. He figured, he knew, that it would be a matter of time until Allison would find a way to annoy him, considering they had never been able to be around each other without bickering at least 80% of the time. It was only fair if he'd play the same game she did. 

"I did, I do," With a teasing smirk, she shrugged before plopping down on the chair she assumed he had been using all night. "And I'd love you if you'd get me one of those." His eyes followed her movements as she carefully pointed out to the cup of coffee sitting on the table in front of her. 

"No longer a fan of hot cocoa, uh?"

"Isn't that what you're drinking?" Once again, there it was, the annoying, beautiful smile plastered on her face that could get him to huff in annoyance and roll his eyes in less than half a second. ".. right, you're a grown man and all already."

"You're so annoying."

"And you missed me."

Stiles shook his head disbelievingly as she merely glared at him, clearly amused with her attitude and its effect on the male. Not prolonging their false argument, he reached out for a blanket he had kept beside him earlier in case the cold weather would eventually be too much, and placed it around her shoulders. His fingers were once more wrapped around the mug as he made his way back inside and prepared two cups of coffee for the both of them before going back out. 

The minute he stepped out and approached the empty seat, his friend was already curled up in hers as she snuggled deeper into the blanket as if she was trying too hard to block the freezing cold wind out. Her smile was in place though, dimples popping out as usual, like they always do, - and honestly, that was one of the most adorable things about her, - and her intense gaze was set on the sky full of stars.

"You brought them all out, didn't you?" She questioned, her forefinger pointing out to the dark sky upon them. A chuckle escaped the male's lips at those words as he placed one of the mugs in that open hand of hers, eventually taking a seat beside her as he tilted his chin upwards and stared into the sky as well.

"Of course I did, I mean -" Crossing his legs at his ankles, he slipped one of his hands under his sweatshirt as he enjoyed the warmth that radiated off his own body. In the meantime, he gripped slightly on the mug he was holding, secretly thankful that it was hot enough that would keep his fingers from freezing. "I knew you were coming, so I kind of wanted to surprise you."

"Well, thank you. But the coffee would have been enough." She mocked, his eyes instantly rolling to the back of his head again. "You look good."

"So do you." He smiled genuinely, his eyes landing on an engagement ring on her finger. "I see that's going well."

"Yes," She agreed, quite proudly. Covering his hand with her own, his thumb ran across the ring as he couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. His best friend was certainly doing a great job at being the perfect lover. "We were just waiting for you to come back so we could tie the knot already." Another chuckle escaped his lips at that, but still, he nodded.

"Well, I'm here now."

"Thank God, you are." Her gaze held his once more as she brought her hand up to cup one of his cheeks in her palm. As her thumb found its way across his sharp jaw, her lips curled in a fond smile, and though that managed to steal one of his, he still frowned at her, unsure of the reason behind her sudden display of affection. "He's got your nose. And your jaw."

With a gentle squeeze, the male pulled her hand away carefully and took a quick sip from the liquid in the cup he had been holding. Those words got him speechless, or rather uncertain of what to say. Honestly, he had just realised that he hadn't taken enough time to learn everything about him, and he wasn't sure of how to feel about that. It wasn't his fault, after all, they had just met. But somehow, the things that seemed to linger in his mind was the way he'd smile, and his irresistible dimples would made their appearance; or how his eyes were as hazel as his mother's; or, seriously, how he'd roll his eyes at him every time he'd say something less funny, or appropriate, in a serious situation. He had only noticed things he had seen in Lydia for almost his whole life. 

"He's pretty cute."

"So are you." Allison murmured, nodding her head reassuringly.

"I know, you've never doubted my charming skills."

"Now, don't get cocky." He smiled at her, letting her continue as he hid behind his cup. "He's a great kid."

"I know." His tone of voice sounded almost guilty, regretful, and she found herself clenching her jaw in a gesture of sadness, hoping that moment wouldn't get too emotional and she'd end up releasing all tears she had been holding in all that time, only because she believed he'd come back. And he did. "All thanks to Lydia."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Stiles. You just got here, and you already found a way inside that boy's mind. He looks up to you already. That's not something you can achieve with him easily. In fact, I don't think he has ever trusted anyone else other than Lydia, or Scott, or your father. Sometimes I don't think he even trusts me, probably because annoying him is as amusing to me as annoying you." She shrugged teasingly, "He trusts you, though. He likes you."

"Because he doesn't know who I am."

"No, he doesn't." She agreed, biting her lower lip a little bit too hard. "But because of who he hopes you might be. He's a kid, but he's not dumb. He's not clueless. He's your son, after all."

 

* * *

 

They had spent most of the night talking, drinking too much coffee but only because it was freezing outside, - yet at a certain point, she had to hold him down and stop him from getting more when she realised the caffeine was affecting him in ways she had forgotten that were even possible, and he was too close from deciding to jump in the lake, which was definitely a terrible idea, - and when she finally fell asleep in that uncomfortable wooden chair, in an awkward position, he picked her up, carried her to his jeep, and took her home before Scott would go crazy wolf on everyone around him. Anyway, as expected, none of that was enough to tire him completely, and so he finished the job he had come there to do in the first place. 

He was standing by the kitchen, pondering to whether order pizza or not. Truth is, he hadn't really thought of buying food before heading there, and even if he wanted to cook, there was nothing in the house. The cabinets were practically empty, and he almost wondered if they used that place at all. Probably not. Either way, it was late, and it was pointless going out to do some grocery shopping when everything was already closed up for the day.

A door was burst open out of nowhere, and thinking it was either Allison or Scott, probably even both, he didn't even bother turning to face whoever that was. Instead, he simply spoke the first thing that came to his mind in that moment. 

"What? Didn't have enough of me yesterday?"

"Oh, no, she did have enough." The only voice he wasn't expecting to hear filled his ears, and he couldn't help but widen his eyes, in shock or fear, he wasn't sure of which. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Looking for something to eat?" He said, finally turning around. Jonathan was holding two boxes of pizza, too large for his tiny arms, and was wearing a concerned look on his face. Clearly, he feared for his father. "Hey, bud. Let me help you with that." Reaching out for what the kid was holding, he tried to avoid the strawberry blonde's glare the whole time. "Just what I wanted. Did you read my mind?"

"Nope, aunt Allison did. She also asked me to tell you she was sorry."

"Right," He gulped, nodding in agreement. "Heeey, Lyds."

"No, don't Lyds me." Her fist landed on his chest right after she said those words, and as he launched himself backwards not to get punched again, he did his best not to wince. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think I had to! I was trying to help."

"Poor thing." Jay spoke him, earning a few glares in the process. "Right, the kid isn't supposed to say anything." Stiles couldn't hold in a chuckle at those words, but before he even had the chance to laugh, it died the second she turned to face him again. 

"It's not funny, -" She pointed accusingly at him, stepping forward. "You're not supposed to do this, to be all nice - you're not my slave!"

"I could be.."

"Stiles!"

"He could be." Their child nodded eagerly, wondering if that would help, - at all, - and somehow stop his mother from scolding the older man. "He so could be your slave mom."

"He has no idea of what he is saying."

"Stiles!" She growled this time, fisting his shirt before pulling him closer. "Why?"

"Because I can." The male said simply, not giving her any chance to say anything at all by pressing his lips against hers. The kiss was too rushed, too _normal_ , but still good, no matter what. It had been such a long time since she felt the softness of his lips on hers, and therefore that quick kiss was beyond enough to calm her at the moment.

"Now that's gross." Once again, Jay was heard and the parents realised that wasn't the right place, nor the right time, for any of that, and so they parted reluctantly. "But at least you shut up." Lydia was so close to snap at both of them that time, so close to forbid his son from having a slice of pizza, but Stiles somehow saved them from that.

"So, pizza?"

"Whatever. I'm not done with you."

"Later?"

"Later."


	6. and you don't look back, not for anything

Stiles stood by his jeep, eventually leaning into it as he observed the way kids approached their parents and their cars after a long day of school, wanting nothing more than to get home as soon as possible and do whatever that wouldn't involve boring homework, or anything related to their classes. With his arms crossed against his chest, he tilted his head sideways and swallowed thickly, unsure of the reason why those deep, almost overwhelming, and somewhat sad emotions rushed through him at the sight of all of that. What those people had been doing for the past 10 minutes was exactly what he was doing, - waiting for his child. But it still felt different, almost like he didn't deserve to be there, or almost like he could never feel the way other parents did because technically, he wasn't a parent. It killed him having to think like that, it made him feel selfish, like he was wasting the only chance he got to be the father of that boy, and yet he didn't feel like a father. Not that he didn't want to be one, he just didn't feel like one. He felt like he wasn't allowed to be one, like he didn't deserve to be one. And seeing any of those children gripping onto their father's or mother's hand, much like Jonathan did the first time they met, he simply wondered if he'd ever have that and in the meantime, be aware of the fact that he knew he was a parent, but so did his child. 

No, he couldn't afford thinking like that, or he'd end up ruining the little relationship he had with that kid so far. 

A kid that rushed towards him, and yet wouldn't dare to look up at him. Something that he didn't think of as something bad until he realised that Jonathan wasn't speaking either, and that was certainly unusual. That boy talked like crazy, something he got from both his parents honestly, and being so quiet was surely a problem. 

"Hey, what's up, pal?"

"Nothing," He grumbled while struggling with the door. A strong, - too strong for a six year old, - huff slipped between his lips, and he reluctantly glanced up at the older man. "Could you just open this for me?"

"Will you tell me what's wrong?"

"Do I really have to?"

"Kinda." He was hoping that staring at the boy would have been enough to get him to talk, but in the end, they ended up staring at each other like complete morons while none of them really said a thing. No, that six year old wasn't going to be intimidated over a glare, he was taught to be better than that. He was Lydia Martin's son after all. 

"Then I will just walk home."

"No, no-" The male quickly followed the kid, stopping in front of him before he'd take off running. As he kneeled down in front of his son, both his brows rose in a mix of concern and annoyance. That was probably the first time Jonathan had defied him, or tried to be defied himself. That wasn't the sweet, calm kid he knew. "What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You know, it could help you."

"No, it can't." As those words escaped the child's mouth, Stiles noticed for the first time how tears slowly welled up in his eyes. But that hadn't been the first time he had cried that day, no. He only noticed then, - when Jay finally glanced up at him and allowed his gaze to meet his father's, - how he had already been crying. It was all over his face, dried tears, puffy red eyes. How could he have not noticed that? Right, he was too busy feeling sorry for himself. "And you can't help me either. Actually, of all people, you're probably the person who _can't_ help me." That had to hurt.

"Wow, you're underestimating me there a bit, don't you think?" He tried not to sound as offended as he felt, but truth is, there was no point in showing how upset those words truly made him feel. The younger boy wouldn't understand him, not unless he told him the truth, and that wouldn't have been fair to Lydia. Not even to the kid. No, it couldn't happen like that, it wouldn't be good for any of them. He'd just have to persuade him to talk. "Just tell me, please?"

"There's this kid, -" The younger dark haired boy sniffled slightly, wiping at his tears with his sleeve clumsily. "He's never been really nice, but I try not to mind anything he says. But today, he told me that the only reason I don't have a father is because I don't deserve one, or-"

"Jonathan.."

".. because I pushed mine away. And maybe he's right, because my father isn't here so maybe I did make him go away."

"No, Jay.."

"No, listen-" The boy flinched away from his touch, refusing to meet his gaze once more as he turned to face the blue jeep instead. He tried opening the door again, reaching out for the knob, but a growl escaped his lips when he realised he couldn't quite do it himself. So, not wanting to push him to talk, Stiles stepped forward and opened the door for him instead. "It's fine Stiles, take me home."

It pained him not being able to say anything that could make the boy feel better, especially because he refused himself any kind of support and comfort. He couldn't blame him either. He assumed that the simple mention of his father was delicate enough, and it would only bring him even more pain. Pain of the unknown, really. Because even though he knew the truth, the child, - his child, - didn't. Yet, he also didn't want him to blame himself. He didn't deserve that. He was just so young, too young to feel that way.

Inevitable, though, which was no one's fault but his.

On their way towards the Martin's, none of them talked. Once in a while, Stiles would hear a sob, but wouldn't dare to say anything either. Not when he was completely dismissed not too long ago, and Jonathan had been clear when he said he just didn't want to talk about it. Yes, he was only a child, an innocent, small child who obviously needed help and guidance, but like any other person, he deserved respect. Especially when it came to his pain, something he had kept to himself all the time, something he didn't understand himself and believed no one else really did. When, actually, everyone could indeed understand that feeling, that pain, easily. The only reason why he didn't seem to be able to deal with it, to accept it, was because he was too young to feel those kind of sensations. 

When the car came to a stop by Lydia's house, he hopped off his jeep and walked to the passenger's side in order to open the door again. Though, the look on his son's face clearly said that he could have done it by himself, opening from the inside was easier, he didn't need to reach out for anything. Still, none of them said anything again. Instead, he merely grabbed the boy's bag and took him inside, expecting him to lock himself up in his room right away. It was understandable, and he didn't want to be the one who would stop him from doing that after everything he had done to him. He was the cause of that suffering. 

Not too long after they arrived home, though, his son joined him on the couch. For a while, no one spoke up, he merely snuggled up into the male's side and let his silence, and his presence, somewhat soothe him, as they watched tv for a bit. Not that any of them really paid attention to it, not when Stiles was staring down at the kid while playing with dark hair, and Jonathan was too young to even understand what was going on, on what was happening on the show. 

"Does your mother know?" His voice was too faint, too quiet, and if the child wasn't leaned against him, his head tucked under his father's chin, he wouldn't have heard it. Honestly, he was hoping he hadn't heard, because it would break his heart knowing that Lydia had an idea of how their son was being treated at school and she couldn't do anything about it.

"No, but uncle Scott does."

Shit.

"What does he say?"

"To always stay strong."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, he says dad was dorky as I am" that had to make him roll his eyes, "and always handled bullies." The kid shrugged, too focused on the tv's screen to notice how Stiles smiled fondly. "He always tells me that no one could really intimidate dad, and that whenever he was scared, he would admit it, but he wouldn't let his enemies know it."

And yet, he let his demons control him.

"And you're trying to do the same?"

"Yes."

"Is it working?"

"Sometimes..."

"Don't worry," He whispered, kissing the top of his boy's head. "It really didn't work all the time with him either."

 

* * *

 

By the time Lydia got home, _101 Dalmatians_ was playing on her tv, though no one was really watching it. Jonathan was sleeping on Stiles' lap, and in the meantime, Stiles was reading one of the books he had picked up from one of her shelves and had certainly not been touched in years. Something he certainly wasn't interested in, but anything must have felt better for him than the movie. Which came almost as a shock to the strawberry blonde, considering he had always loved those kinds of movies. 

She placed her keys over the table near the entrance and stepped inside the living room, watching them both for a bit before letting herself known. She was ridiculously tired, and even if staring at both her men seemed great at the time, she would probably end up passing out on the spot. There was no doubt that the doctor was urgently needing her bed, or even the couch. She would accept anything, even the floor, at that moment. 

"Hey.." She did her best to speak quietly, not wanting to startle the dark haired man or wake her - _their_ son. And when Stiles refused to acknowledge her for a minute, she wondered if something was wrong. But, as usual, she didn't get to ask considering he merely scooped Jay up and took him back to his room. When he got back, however, things were different. He stood by the door, not sure of how to start a conversation with the woman yet. His hand came up to his face slowly, and he pinched his nose nervously. "What is it?"

"Jay has this kid at school who, apparently, is mean to him."

"What?" Her voice sounded louder than she intended, and it was clear by its reaction on the man. He was somewhat startled, and what she didn't know was that it wasn't exactly her tone that caused that, it was actually the subject itself.

"He told Jonathan that he didn't deserve a dad, that he.. drove his away."

"Wait, what?" At a certain point, Lydia wasn't sure to whether feel angry or just sad. Well, she certainly felt like crying by then, knowing that she could protect her son from much but that certainly wasn't one of the things on that list. And somehow, she couldn't help but feel like she had failed the small child for not being able to keep him from feeling any pain at all, even if it was caused by others. Others that she clearly couldn't control, none of that was up to her. And by the look in Stiles' face, he knew that too. "What did you tell him?" There was nothing about that question that would force him to blow up, not to her - except there was, even if it wasn't her intention.

"Oh, you know-" Sarcasm was evident in his tone already, and it took a lot of restraint from her not to snap at him right away. That was a serious matter, and she wasn't sure she would be able to hold herself back if he'd end up either making stupid jokes or sarcastic remarks that would lead them nowhere. "I just told him, 'sorry kid, for being the source of your suffering'.." And for some reason, she couldn't exactly get mad at him for that, because it was evident that it was hurting him as much, - or possibly even more, - as it was hurting her. 

"Stiles,"

"I just told him that I couldn't do anything about it because I wasn't there for him."

"Stiles..."

"And you know, eventually, I told him all about my pain and regrets because a six year old can easily understand that."

"Enough, Stiles!" This time, her voice seemed to push him out of whatever was going through his mind, and their eyes finally met for the first time that night. He knew she was hurting, she had obviously done everything she could to raise their kid properly, even without his help. And whether he cared to admit that at the moment, or not, she had done a wonderful job. But he was so mad, - so enraged, - at everything. The whole world, Lydia, himself included. It was like every feeling he had been holding back for the past weeks were attacking him all at once, and at a certain point, it felt like he was at their mercy. So, even if he really wanted to be able to comfort her instead of making it worse, the simple thought of being the bad guy infuriated him more. Especially because he knew that it wasn't her fault, and not being able to blame it on anyone, - not even himself, honestly, - was making him feel helpless. Not that pushing the blame onto someone would make anything better for him. 

"I didn't tell him anything, alright? What could I say, Lydia? I'm quite certain I'm not even allowed to tell him who I am."

"Excuse me?"

"What do you expect me to do? Just sit here and wait until you make up your mind?" He sounded more aggressive than he wanted, and it hurt him seeing that he wasn't going to be able to stop. He just needed to let it all out, all of that sorrow, and painful guilt he figured he would never to be able to get rid of. "Until you decide it's the right time for you to let me be a parent as well?"

"I'm sorry, why am I suddenly the one to blame?"

"Who else should it be?"

"Try blaming yourself!" She spat, not caring whether that would hurt him or not. Truth is, she felt like she had been gracious from the start, and in every way, she was. She had tried everything to be able to talk to him for years, and he was unreachable. That had made her so angry for such a long time, feeling like she had to keep her son's true identity a secret. She hated the thought of using her son as her own dirty secret. And though she had realised she couldn't blame him or be mad at him for long, she was still disappointed. Disappointed that she had been left behind. It hurt her every single day, it broke her all the time. And when he finally got back, she didn't even try to keep them from seeing each other, when she clearly could. She was his mother, she was the one who got to make the decisions of who would come closer to her underage son. And yet, she allowed him to be around, she didn't push him away, she didn't hide their son, she got to make sure the kid wasn't a dirty secret anymore, - and when she got the chance, or actually, was forced into one, she told him the truth. So, yes, she had been gracious, she had been amazing, she had been a mature woman. One who refused to forbid the connection between a father and a son, - a son who happened to be her own. She deserved better than being the target of his outbursts when he couldn't handle his own emotions. "Where  **were** you?"

"Wow-"

"No, you listen to me, -" The doctor stepped closer until there weren't many inches between them, and as their eyes held the same intense, and fierce connection, she began talking once more. "I expected this to happen, I expected you to demand something, - anything at all, - that would make you feel like a part of this. I did, because you've been feeling powerless from the minute you found out who he really was. And you know what? I understood, I even accepted it, because god knows what you're feeling. But you don't get to come to me and blame me for something that was nothing but inevitable. What you're seeing now, what you're dealing with now, is something I've been handling for years. So tough, Stiles, because being an ass about it won't help either of us."

_"He just doesn't stop crying." The strawberry blonde groaned under her breath, pulling on her hair in the meantime as she faced the furthest wall from her baby's crib._

_"He's just a baby Lydia, whining about he fact he keeps screaming won't help you." Allison tried to reason with the woman while scooping her godson up from his crib, snuggling him into her chest almost immediately. Her friend, however, glared at her, ready to argue back until she realised that Jonathan had finally stopped crying and was clinging onto the brunette's blouse instead._

_"How the hell did you do that?"_

_"Shh," She hissed, caressing his small head with her fingertips. "Can you try not to curse in front of him?"_

_"Oh please,"_

_"Seriously, Lydia, don't try to be a smartass about this. When was the last time you slept?"_

_"I don't know, over 9 months ago?" As those words found their way out of the banshee's mouth, her best friend couldn't help but giggle. It was clear by the look on her face that she hadn't been sleeping well at all, and somehow it was understandable if she was freaking out and the smallest sound would bother her._

_"You're exhausted honey, and that's not helping any of you. Get some rest, okay? I will take care of him."_

"But tell me, where were you? London?" He avoided her gaze, looking down at his feet shamefully instead. That didn't stop her though, because when she didn't get an answer, she merely continued. "Well, I was here. Changing diapers, preparing bottles, buying clothes, helping him sleep, certainly not getting any sleep myself, and at the same time, I tried studying. I tried working. Because I was no longer alone, I had a kid who depended on me. And trust me, when you find yourself in that kind of situation, that's when you realise that it doesn't matter how much money your parents have and can give to you, because you're no longer a daughter. You're a mother as well, so you start making decisions, and you start thinking, and the more you think, the more you try making any decisions at all, you get even less sleep. So tell me, where the hell were you?"

"Lydia-"

"No Stiles, I get it. It's frustrating, right? And it kills you on the inside, it eats every bit of your strength when you realise that out there," He couldn't help but noticing the way she pointed out at one of the windows, her eyes never leaving his. "is the real world, and the real world will crush your child's dreams, will take away every bit of hope and courage they have to go on. Out there, you will find people that could be harmless to your child, and yet they will break them. So trust me, I get it how weak you must be feeling at the moment, knowing that out there someone is hurting your baby, my baby, and you can't do anything about it. But that doesn't mean you get to come to me and blame me for not being there for him all these years in order to stop him from feeling what he's feeling at the moment. It's not my fault if you chose wrong."

"How was I supposed to know I chose wrong?"

"Well, that's simple. You should have come to me first, before you decided to leave me."

"Leave you?" The male decided to put some distance between them, hating how far they were getting on that argument, and at the same time, how weak she could make him feel with only a glare. "How is this all about you?"

"Not me, us!"

"There hasn't been an us for a very long time, Lydia!"

"Exactly, because you chose it that way.  **Your** fault!"

They stared at one another for too long, none of them saying anything that could stop what was coming next. He knew he had hurt her, just like she suspected her words might have been a little bit too harsh. But for some reason, none of them could really feel bad for it. It was as if anything that could be slightly bad was always going to happen to them, and there was no way they could prevent that. They should have been stronger than that though. They should have known better, fought harder, against it and not each other. But it was inevitable, and sooner or later, that would have happened. It was meant to happen. 

"You gave me an out, right? I should have taken it." Just like that argument was inevitable, so was her reaction to those words. She literally gaped at him, a huff of breath escaping her lips when she realised that it wouldn't take long until all of that would be too much, and it would break her. "That's what you wanted, right?"

"Have you ever considered asking me what I really feel?"

"Why don't you tell me then?" His words were harsher, and by the look in his eyes, this time he meant it. Perhaps it was getting as overwhelming to him as it did to her.

"I never wanted this to happen. And you're more than welcome to think I blame you when I told you I didn't, but I really don't. I don't blame you, for anything. Actually, the only thing I felt over these years was hope. Hope that you would come back as quick as possible, and honestly, the only thing that truly mattered to me was that you did, eventually, even if it wasn't as fast as I hoped it to be."

_The sound of unfamiliar bare feet slapping on the cold ground filled the whole house, and Lydia found herself stopping what she was doing, letting most of her paperwork fall on the table in front of her, her pen dropping on the floor in the process as she turned to face who that was. The only people at home were her and her son, and if she was sitting by her desk and studying, who the hell was wandering around her house?_

_Her eyes followed the source of the noise, feeling them widen practically automatically at the image of her son padding through the hallway towards the room she had been in for the past couple of minutes. His grin was of pure victory, as if he had known, no matter how small he was, that was a great accomplishment._

_"Sti-les.." She called out unconsciously, shutting her eyes when she realised there was no Stiles, there was no dad, that could see that happening. Only herself, and before she would waste her time feeling sorry for herself, for the fact she was all alone, raising **his** child, she merely grinned brightly at her baby and approached him quietly. "Hi baby, look at that.."_

"But you were here, so I just wanted you to know who he was. I wanted you to know exactly what you deserved to know, and I expected it to be the end of the world for me. I expected you to blame me then, it seemed fair. You'd have to deal with your pain, with some sort of loss, and I was ready to help you through that. The only thing that I really wanted was for you to know your child." She spoke honestly, and he could sense that. He could so easily see that, and suddenly, his anger slowly started to fade. "When I gave you an out, I figured you should have at least that choice. You didn't get to be here for most of the decisions, so I wanted you to have one of your own instead of me pushing you into something you probably weren't even ready for. But you stayed. Stiles, **you** -" Her finger was pointing at him this time, and he nodded in agreement, knowing she had been right in everything she had said so far. "You chose to stay. I didn't force you into it, it was your choice, and you voiced it. I was happy for your choice, I wanted my son to have a dad. And therefore, you can't blame me for any of this. Because you're the one who feels like you don't deserve this, like you don't belong here. You're the one who has created those ideas, those miserable thoughts that are only meant to break you, to break us. You did that to yourself, not me, not Jay, certainly not that cruel kid. You did."

"What's going on?" A third voice was heard right when he was about to reply to those words, and he practically scolded himself silently for shouting, or doing any noise at all that would bring them to that. Slowly, both parents turned to look at the child who was rubbing one of his eyes lazily, and as if he had realised all the damage he could create in that kid's life, Stiles simply kneeled in front of him and smiled sadly.

"I need to tell you something,"

"Stiles..."

"We're gonna have to take a break for a few days, alright buddy? I'm gonna have to go away." She should have probably felt relief over the fact the male hadn't tried to tell her son the truth that late in the night, after an ugly fight and a terrible day. But hearing those words, realising what was going to happen, - _**again**_  - she almost wished he had simply spoken the truth instead of putting them all through that again.

"Stiles!"

"Why?" The small, quiet, and full of sadness voice was heard again, and the tears he had been trying so hard to hold back all night finally slipped free.

"Because it's the right thing."

"No it's not. Mom-" The child looked up at his mother, practically pleading her to stop his heart from breaking all over again.

"Stiles, what are you doing?" She said instantly, wanting to do exactly what _her_ son was silently asking her for.

"What needs to be done, at least for now."

The male placed a soft kiss on his son's head, standing on his feet to repeat the same action on the mother before rushing towards the front door and leave. Two pairs of hazel eyes stared in shock as the door was shut too quietly, and before Lydia could be truly ready for what was going to happen afterwards, Jonathan launched himself forward towards the exit, hoping to be able to stop his friend from leaving, only to be stopped by his mother who wrapped her arms around him and did her best to soothe him like she had done plenty of times before. But she knew, she was sure, that putting him to sleep wouldn't end his or her pain this time.

 

* * *

 

It had been almost a week since the night, that night in which he had screwed up everything good he had in life, once again, because he was too scared to be selfish towards the two people that deserved the best, only to realise eventually that he had indeed been selfish in the end. He pushed himself away from his family, refused any kind of contact, connection, and broke three hearts in the process. Truthfully, he had regretted that choice every day since, but as more and more time passed by, his lack of strength, courage, would stop him from trying to get them back.  He feared what he would find if he'd try anything at all, knowing that he deserved to be punished for that. It was clear that Lydia would never let anyone near her child again only to get him hurt again, even if that person was his father. His safety, his happiness, his heart was always going to be what mattered the most to her, and no one could change that.

Still, at some point, he knew that not sleeping, doing everything he could to distract himself from that by filling his mind with useless, stupid things weren't going to help him, and it was about time he did something. Apologise, at the very least. And he had tried doing that by asking Scott, - the vet, who could save his life, - if he could find anyone who could get him a baby dalmatian. It took a while, especially because his friend was mad at him as well and wanted to punish him as much as Lydia did, but when he finally had the puppy, he didn't waste time and merely found his way to their house.

Knocking on the front door, Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and thought of every possible scenario, - she'd probably laugh, or scream at him immediately, or shut the door in his face, or kick him in the crotch, - a lot could happen, and he deserved all of it. Well, maybe not the last one. It would hurt like a bitch, and besides, Lydia was a classy woman, she wouldn't do that. Either way, he wasn't ready for any of those, and when the door was suddenly open, he gasped for air. Her facial expression was blank, neutral, he couldn't find anything in it and it terrified him.

"Hey.."

"What are you doing here, Stiles?"

"We need to talk."

"Do you really believe that bringing a puppy will buy you all the love you could get?" And there it was, the cold, mean tone of voice that could torture him in so many ways, and yet he almost thanked her for it. That meant she cared, right? Maybe not, maybe she only wanted to kill him. Anyway, he didn't get to put too much thought into it, considering Jay came running clumsily towards the front door, pushing her mother out of the way in order to throw his arms around the older man's hips.

"Stiles!"

"Hey buddy.." He murmured, slipping his long, skilled fingers, through dark hair. It was ridiculous how much he had missed that only. "Look what I got you.."

"Does he bite?"

"No, I bite.. he's friendly." He was rewarded with one of the most adorable smiles he had ever seen, and somehow, that made him feel a lot better. Though, he really didn't deserve that, not yet, anyway.

"You do realise I'm not taking care of that, right?"

"Why not? You had one!"

"Not the point, Stiles." She growled, thankful that the kid was no longer with them to see that. "What do you want? Seriously, this is exhausting.."

"I want what I've wanted from the start Lydia, but this time, we need to talk. We need to set some rules. We need to, I-I don't know, tell the truth or whatever you wanna call it." With a nod of her head, the strawberry blonde slowly opened the door wider and stepped aside, causing Stiles to breathe in relief.

"Come in."


	7. and I am short on words knowing what's occurred, she begins to leave because of me

Finally sitting at the kitchen table at the Martin's house, much like he had done for the past days, Stiles noticed that he had never felt as relieved and nervous at the same time before. The noise of people leaving their homes and heading to work or some place else filled his ears, and it was almost distracting, but as soon as a blue mug was placed right in between his hands on the table, his head moved in its own accord to meet the woman's eyes as she sat beside him. He didn't want to admit it just yet, but he was unbelievably scared that eventually she'd opt to kick him out instead of hearing what he had to say. At a certain point, he felt like he shouldn't even be there, not deserving another chance after wasting the first that was given to him, - a chance she had so easily handed it to him in hopes he would have done the right thing. 

"Tea?"

"I ran out of coffee," She answered simply, avoiding his brown eyes that kept scanning her shamelessly. She suspected what he was trying to do, - probably just wanting to find out what she had in mind by only looking at her, which was absolutely ridiculous considering he had been the one shutting her out, destroying their connection completely, and it basically led them to lose their chemistry, their closeness, their emotional bond that had held them together for so long, just not long enough. "So, yeah, tea." It seemed like a good enough answer at first, since he merely pursed his lips and didn't say anything else for a bit. But then...

"You're a resident, how do you run out of coffee?" There it was, his smart mouth. 

"For that reason exactly, detective." That last word slipped between her lips with a click of her tongue, and he practically winced at her tone. Yeah, that wasn't going well.

"Officer," He corrected. "I'm not quite there yet."

"Is this really why you're here, Stiles?" There was nothing nice about those words, and as expected, her voice was just as cold. She seemed exhausted, both physically and emotionally drained, as if she had been struggling to keep going for the past few days, and that was all his fault. He had left them behind for no good reason, chosen to turn away from them once again, and though he hadn't known all about it last time, this time he had done it knowingly, willingly, not even bothering to question his choice over and over again, and even if he had been struggling himself, that didn't mean he knew what they had gone through. Lydia had to deal with his sudden departure, his sudden decision not to be involved, - and even if he was only a few miles away it felt like they had been distanced between worlds during the whole week, - and her child. Her child who had wept, pleaded to get him back, and yet she was unable to grant his wishes. Not that she had tried to, quite honestly, because she wouldn't really be able to fight a decision like that. And even if it was wrong, considering her decisions and choices no longer involved only her, she still felt the need to be proud.

Proud enough that she wouldn't dare to run, crawl even, after him so he could come back. She had been raising her little boy for almost 7 years, and he was nowhere in sight. Though it wasn't his fault, he still wasn't there. And if she made up her mind to have that child, and love, care for him, make him her whole life, so should he. If that was what he wanted, of course. Because she wasn't able to have him on and off their lives, knowing that would only create hope and expectation that would be destroyed in a matter of time. She was no longer a child, she hadn't been one for a long time. Her future depended on mature, well pondered decisions. Not rushed, weak ones. Even if she had always been mature, her life had had a whole different change that needed to be treated carefully. Yes, she wanted Stiles to be a part of hers and their son's life, but if that meant there would be more heartache than happiness, she wasn't going to let him near the child again. Selfish or not, she had enough experience to know what was the right thing to do, and the right thing to do, though many may believe was letting Jonathan know his father, was actually make sure he didn't go through a traumatic experience only because the other person that did half of the job at conceiving him was a weak asshole who would rather run at the first sign of trouble.

Except Stiles wasn't any of that. He was strong, kind and loving and deserved an actual chance. One she was willing to give, if he was willing to accept. Either way, all of it depended on him.

"No," He muttered under his breath, finally, as his fingers found their way around the cup and held it tightly. A sign of nervousness, perhaps, or maybe he was just deciding to actually drink the tea instead of complaining over it. "I came here to solve things."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Yup, she was not going to go easy on him. It didn't look like he was going to get her warmth, care and love anytime soon again. But he deserved that, and he knew that. So if he had to deal with an all business Lydia, he could do that. This time, he wanted to make sure things would be decided for the best. He had to make it up to both of them, but that meant that they would have to tell their kid the truth. He didn't know how much longer he could be around his beautiful baby boy, having to lie to him every time he'd open his mouth to talk. He was no one to decide what was best for him, but if he was allowed to give his opinion, he'd say that lying to him surely wasn't the best option.

"I want to tell him the truth."

"Is that it?"

"Let me finish," He spoke firmly, but not harshly. In fact, his only intention was to finally get her fully attention, knowing that next time any word escaped his lips, it would sink in. "I've rushed things. Not that I didn't know what I wanted in the beginning, because I did and I still do. I didn't come back with the purpose of getting you back, I actually thought you had moved on with someone else. But when I found myself facing this situation, I knew I wouldn't nor I wanted to turn back. This was going to be my life. I meant it the first time I said it. The only difference now is that I intend to do the right thing, and I can't keep telling lies to my son, because the longer I do that, the more he'll end up hating me in the end. Not to mention that he'd probably end up hating you as well, and that is the last thing I want or need. You've done a wonderful job raising that boy so far, and I'd hate to see that all your hard work would mean nothing in his mind, when it actually meant the world. That being said, I can't keep lying to him just because he's too young, and he probably won't take it well. I can't pretend to be his friend, or just another cool uncle, when I'm his father, and I want to be his father. I mean it." He paused to take a quick, but still deep breath, not being able to face her just yet since he was too scared he'd end up finding the same incredulous look she had in her face when he stepped out of that same house to literally exit their lives for good. Dumb idea. Also, he feared she'd be biting herself not to laugh at his ridiculousness, his attempt to demand something when he no longer had anything to demand, or to even simply ask for. "I want to get to know him, and I want him to know me. I want to assure him that he can trust me, and come to me if needed. I want Jonathan to have a father, because though I don't deserve him as a son, he deserves the best dad he can get in the world and that's who I plan to be."

"Okay-"

"I'm not done yet." Stiles allowed himself to look up at her, immediately holding her gaze with his own as he toyed with the teabag. Relief rushed through him when he realised she nodded in agreement at his words, instead of letting them annoy her, and only then he continued. "I want to earn your respect, and your trust. Eventually, I want to get to know you as well."

"You already know me, Stiles."

"No, I know the Lydia I dated seven years ago. You've had a lot of change in your life since then, and though I have an idea of who you are, I can't live based on ideas, otherwise I will ruin my only chance to make a difference. I need this to work out, and I have to work on it carefully. But before anything else, I want to become a parent, Lydia. And for that, I need to tell him the truth, I need him to be a bit mad at me, I need him to make him questions, to demand the reason why I haven't been here. I can't keep his father away from him anymore, and that's what I've been doing, even though I've been right here for all these weeks already."

"How do you suggest we do this, then?"

"I just need to tell him, I need your permission to tell him. I also need your permission to get my family back, please." With a quick nod of her head, Lydia agreed to his request and stood on her feet, placing her mug on the sink before she turned to face him once again. 

"I should be the one telling him."

"Let me be there with you then, at least." He swallowed thickly, shrugging nervously as his fingertip ran across the rim of the mug he was still holding. "Not that you need it, but it'd make me feel better if you didn't have to be alone with that."

The strawberry blonde was hesitant at first, thinking that maybe the intensity of the conversation, and finding out the truth was already too hard, and so facing him, - his father, - would only make it worse. But she quickly realised that his last request only reassured her of his decision, and perhaps he should be a part of that as well. She wanted him to be a part of it, a part of their life, and for that, she'd have to help him as well. Accept him back was perhaps the first step. 

Once again, she nodded, and he began wondering when did that become enough for him as any kind of response. There had been no signs of annoyance in his tone of voice, or his words, even when she'd only nod, and that came almost as a shock to him. It was almost terrifying seeing her so willing to help him, but then he'd see how reluctant she was, how distand and cold she had been acting so far, and he knew that things weren't nor they would be easy eventually. For either of them. 

They left the kitchen, but took different paths. As he made his way into the sitting room, she padded towards their son's room instead in order to ask him to join them, so they could finally have a conversation. A deep, serious conversation. He pressed the pads of his fingers against his closed eyelids and let out a shaky breath, suddenly unsure of his decision as if everything he had been doing so far was just wrong. It wasn't wrong, it was definitely the right thing, but being the insecure, anxious man he had always been, he hardly trusted himself. In fact, he still looked at himself as something possibly harmful to his kid, and that made him doubt all his choices to approach that boy ever again. 

"What's going on?" The familiar voice filled the quiet room, and Stiles quickly turned around to face the young boy, who stood quietly by one of the couches, almost too scared to hear anything that was coming next, even if he didn't know what that was yet. 

"Take a seat, baby." Lydia whispered, and both boys took their seats on different couches. It's not like she was speaking to Stiles directly, but for some reason, it felt like she did, and he had missed the term of endearment for so long, he almost hoped it had been for him and not their child. They both played with their fingers on their laps, and if the doctor wasn't too busy preparing herself to tell something to her son, - something she had been dreading to tell him ever since he was born, - she would have blurted out "like father, like son".

"Stiles and I have something to tell you." The minute those words slipped off her lips, the boy turned to glance at the older man, expecting him to say something, - anything at all. And even if he still didn't suspect anything, he hoped that meant the male was going to start spending time with him again, but by the serious faces his parents had, it hardly seemed like anything good was coming out of that. 

"What is it?"

"You know how you've always wanted to know who your dad was, honey?" The dark haired man squeezed his eyes shut, and gulped nervously again. Yes, that had been a terrible idea, but how could he escape from that, anyway? It was his idea, he practically begged for it to happen, so he'd have to get his shit together and go through with it. That was the least they both deserved, and he couldn't fail them again. 

"I know it's you." Jay admitted, shrugging his small shoulders in the process. He was too calm, not really caring about the weight of the world that had practically fallen off in that room between all of them. 

"What?" Stiles squeaked, watching as the mother of his child widened her eyes in both fear and surprise. None of them really knew where that came from, but the both of them figured that no one could have told him. The only people that knew were too scared of what would happen if Jonathan would know, not to mention they would probably talk the parents out of telling him the truth just yet. 

"I wasn't sure." He continued, not looking at either of his parents. "I just figured you were. You appeared out of nowhere and then you were always around, as if you had always been a part of my life. And you were always nice, and cool, and careful with me like a dad should be. And mom was okay with you being around all the time, she liked having you here too, so I thought that maybe you were my dad."

"Jonathan..."

"Where were you?" He demanded this time, observing the way his father blinked nervously and practically gaped at him. Suddenly, the boy who had always too much to say couldn't find any words, and the woman sitting on the couch next to him was his only option. 

"Sweetie, before you were born, something happened... and I'm not excusing dad's behaviour or choices, but unfortunately he had to leave."

"Did you know I existed?" He started again, not letting his mother finish.

"Not until I came back, no."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Because I was scared you'd be mad at me."

"What made you think I wouldn't be mad now too?"

"I figured you would," Stiles nodded, slipping off his seat in order to kneel down in front of him. His trembling hands found Jay's, and he carefully curled his long fingers around them, in hopes that would somewhat give him some comfort. "But I also thought you should know, so did your mother. And I figured I could have you mad at me, as long as you would give me another chance."

"What would you do?"

"Me?" The strawberry blonde practically squeaked as well, since she wasn't sure why her son would ask her for her opinion. Just like the Sheriff's son had mentioned earlier, she figured the small child would be just as upset with her as he was with his father.

"Yes mom, what would you do?"

"I would.." She took a deep breath, avoiding the male's pleading eyes as she focused on her son's instead. "I would give him another chance."

"Why?"

"Because by doing that, I'd be giving myself a chance as well. You've always wanted to know who he was, to meet him, and now you have your chance, Jonathan." Her voice was too weak, too shaky, by the whole situation itself, and she only hoped that wouldn't scare him out of doing anything. When she finally brought herself to answer his question, she found herself knowing that he'd end up relying on her and her opinions to do something, and so she was praying that she was doing the right thing as well, instead of ruining whatever kind of strength Stiles got to make things better. "Besides, you've been spending a lot of time with him ever since he got back, and you like it, right? You like him?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Hey, baby.." One of her hands covered both his and Stiles', and she smiled reassuringly. "Maybe knowing who he is for sure will only make it better."

Hazel eyes were then full of hope as he looked up at the man standing in front of him, the man he could have been calling dad for almost seven years, but unfortunately, he hadn't had the chance. And as those slender fingers fondled the back of his hands, he realised that this was for real. This was happening. This was his chance too. And for the first time in his life, he also realised why everyone would tell him that he was only a child, and that meant he wouldn't be able to understand most of the things. But he knew that, as his mother told him, this was his chance too. 

"Does this mean Sheriff Stilinski is my grandpa?" A soft chuckle escaped the male's lips at that question, and the woman's lips curled in a beautiful, hopeful grin.

"Yes."

"Will you leave again?"

"No." He replied immediately, squeezing small hands in his own meanwhile.

"Will you still spend time with me after school?"

"Yes, unless I'm working. But I'll still find a way to see you every day."

"Will you be there for mom?"

"Always."

"Can I keep the puppy?"

"O-Of course." 

 

* * *

 

 

Things had been, unfortunately but still somewhat expected, uncomfortable at first. Jonathan wouldn't know how to approach the man, who he now knew that was his father, and sometimes, Stiles would find himself pushing himself back, not to put too much pressure on the kid since that could only complicate things. But eventually, they found their way back, and were as comfortable around each other as before. They would meet every day, whether it was after school or even during lunch break, and the small boy quickly realised he could rely on that man as well. Not once he had made it look like he was going to leave eventually, and even if his son was too young to understand everything as well as they did, he still felt relieved noticing that his father wasn't lying. He really wasn't going anywhere. 

Days turned into weeks, and they couldn't live without each other anymore. The older Stilinski had even accepted going to one of those parents' meetings at school, and he even introduced himself to that one boy that kept bullying his child, per Jay's request. They both shared a good laugh seeing how that other kid didn't find any words to the revelation, which was, in a way, fantastic, since they had been hoping that would be enough to stop him from bothering, or possibly, - god forbid, - hurting the young boy. They had also been helping Scott and Allison planning their wedding, which turned out to be way too boring for the both of them, but since the vet would always use his puppy dog eyes to convince them to help only a bit more, they often found each other being forced into doing weird things like picking the right flowers for the big day. And that was exactly what was on both their minds when Stiles stopped by the Martin's house in order to pick him up since he'd be staying with his father for the night, so they could go try on their tuxedos one last time with uncle Scott, a week before the wedding. 

A different, unfamiliar, face, - and also a male one, - opened the door mere seconds after the Stilinski knocked. It was shortly after dinner, he had just left work and was only able to take a quick shower before heading there to pick up his son. But as both men faced each other, he suddenly found himself wishing he had taken a longer time showering. That was not on his plans, and he didn't want to imagine how awkward things were going to be with Lydia afterwards.

"Come in.." Said the unknown guy, with a gruff voice, and he started wondering if he had knocked on the right door. 

"Thanks."

"Hey babe, who is it-" Hazel eyes met brown ones as the young man stood awkwardly by the open door, forcing a tight smile that could easily come off as an amused one, - when, truly, there was nothing amusing about that. "Oh, hi Stiles, you're here."

"I'm here." He nodded, trying to prevent an eye roll.

"Well, this is Nick."

"Yeah, what's up, pal?" His polite tone of voice turned into a bitter one as the last word escaped his lips, and if Lydia had noticed that, she hadn't showed it. Instead, she merely handed him a small bag and a jacket he assumed that belonged to their son, and none of them talked to each other again. Actually, the doctor turned away to face the other guy that stood beside them like he literally owned the place, and merely gave him a kiss goodbye before he finally got ready to leave.

"Good to meet you, dude."

"Dude?" His face twisted into one of distaste, but he was quick to hide it as he nodded once again and answered as sharply, simply acknowledging the other male. "Nicholas."

"No, mate-" He replied quickly, one of his hands landing on the officer's shoulder as he glanced down at it and did his best not to slap it away. "It's Nick only."

"Okay-" The Sheriff's son agreed, smiling wickedly as he twirled on his heels only to watch the unfamiliar, - who apparently was Lydia's new boyfriend, - leave, and then spoke, loud enough so he could hear. "Nicholas."

None of the parents dared to face each other then, - she was too embarrassed by being caught, and he wasn't willing to deal with some random judgy look only because he didn't welcome the other guy warmly.

Dude, he scoffed.

Whatever, _Nicholas_. 

Luckily, Jonathan didn't take long leaving his room, having just finished packing a few things, - unnecessary things, really, since he was only spending one night off, - but still no one said anything, thinking it would be pointless. So, with a last kiss on his mother's cheek, he finally followed his dad outside towards his jeep, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. 

"So, new guy?"

"Who, Nicholas?" The boy answered, and Stiles had to bite himself not to laugh.

"Apparently, it's Nick only."

"Well," He shrugged, appreciating his father's help to climb inside the jeep. "Nick only doesn't appear often, so I really don't care.. for now."

The dark haired man had to laugh at his son's choice of words then, finding it rather amusing that he didn't seem to like the guy either. Still, he didn't let himself put too much thought into it, not wanting to believe he was jealous that Lydia had found someone new considering the whole point of their agreement was for him to get to know his son, and not much else, really. That was the most important thing, and they had both agreed to it, so she was more than welcome, - and honestly, also allowed, which almost sounded too possessive, - to find someone else. She could just.. find someone _nicer_. Someone who wouldn't fear for his masculinity only because someone didn't say his name correctly. Someone who wouldn't want to be around his son, too. Because he was, at the very least, allowed to be upset over the fact she had introduced a new "dude" to his son without him knowing, or even without his permission. Yes, because he deserved being trusted to make that decision as well. 

Anyway, they both went home without mentioning the subject again, wanting only to be able to spend time with each other and have some fun before going to bed, and get ready for another boring day that awaited them. They had enough time to play a few rounds of UNO, which was enough to take their minds off things. Actually, they were both quite competitive so it was safe to say that their fully concentration was on that game and nothing else. 

"How is it that you won again?" Stiles grumbled under his breath, not really noticing that he was actually pouting. "Who taught you how to play like that?"

"You did." Jay said proudly, practically squealing after another victory. It was too easy winning at UNO, his father should have picked a different game.

"I'm pretty sure I didn't teach you to be ruthless."

"Oh, come on. You're not gonna cry, are you?" As the older Stilinski laughed, - his grandfather, actually, who had been watching them interacting for too long already, - Stiles couldn't help but stare at his son and let out a soft chuckle as well, loving how that got the kid to burst into laughter as well. Yeah, sleepovers at the Stilinski's house were the best ones.

 

* * *

 

 

"How did you manage to plan a wedding in only a few weeks?" The Sheriff's son questioned as he buried a fork on a slice of cake, - the one their best friends had chosen for their day, and he had to admit that was the best part, picking the cake. The three men, - well, actually two men and a little one, - had tried on their tuxedos and then went to the vet's house, hoping to spend some time with Allison as requested, until Lydia would come over and pick Jay up.

"We had already most of it planned, we were only trying to find enough courage to.. you know, actually do it."

"Well, make sure you don't get married again, because this was absolutely the worst thing that happened to me, and trust me.. I've dealt with a lot of crap." That earned him a joyful chuckle from the brunette, who had been popping a beer open for him, and before she said anything, Jonathan came running into the kitchen with an unusual frown upon his face. "What's up, bud?"

"Dad," Both adults widened their eyes in surprise at the word, that being the first time he ever called him that, and even if none of them dared to say anything so the boy wouldn't be embarrased, and eventually scared to try it again, they still grinned brightly.. until he opened his mouth to speak again. "Can you choke someone with a tie?"

"What kind of question is that?!"

"Well, uncle Scott," He practically groaned at that, since he already knew that his friend would end up saying something as aggressive as that, and Jay would obviously remember it. Lydia was going to kill him. ".. told someone, actually threatened someone, he'd do that to them if they wouldn't show up at the wedding."

"Can you blame him?"

"Stiles!"

"Sorry, that's not what a father is supposed to say." He winced mockingly, smiling proudly when his son chuckled, and then shrugged. "Let's pretend uncle Scott didn't say anything, alright?"

"Sure.. but can I have some cake?"

"Of course."

Allison wandered around the kitchen, looking for a clean plate before handing him a slice of cake. They both waited until he would leave the kitchen again to go watch cartoons instead, and only then she tried talking to the male about something she had in mind the whole day.

"You do know that Lydia is taking Nick with her to the wedding, right?"

"Right, Nicholas..."

"Stiles, come on." He sighed deeply while shaking his head in denial, not really wanting to discuss anything about the strawberry blonde's new boyfriend, - the brilliant doctor who had been so wonderful to help her around the hospital. If he hadn't known Lydia, he would have thought she was only sleeping with him to get somewhere. But apparently, she actually liked him. And the thought of that made him sigh again, which made Allison stare at him with a sympathetic facial expression. He didn't need sympathy, he was fine. He had a son who called him dad. 

"It's fine Allison, and I really don't want you to worry about that. Two of my best friends ever are getting married, and I'm happy for you guys, alright?" He said earnestly, which got a proud smirk from his friend.

"That reminds me..."

"What?" He mumbled with his mouth full, literally unaware of how ridiculous he looked by doing that, and she needed a lot of effort not to roll her eyes at him and nudge one of his shoulders. Instead, she forced the fork out of his hand and placed him down, covering one of his hands with both her own afterwards.

"Stiles," Her dimples popped out, and he grinned unconsciously as well. "Will you give me away?"

His reaction to that question was surprisingly beautiful. She expected him to look like a confused puppy who ran around in circles trying to catch its tail, but he actually widened his eyes in both surprise and delight, and not long after that a laugh escaped his lips before he pulled her close, in a tight embrace.

"I'd love to, are you kidding me?" He murmured, only loosening his grip around her after placing a kiss on the top of her head. "Unless.. wait, does that mean I have to do something terribly dull and embarrassing afterwards?" Her wonderful smile that could both break and mend hearts disappeared, and she merely narrowed her eyes at him.

"Seriously, Stiles?"


	8. a thousand years go by but love don't die

With a final twist, and quiet click, the front door to the Stilinski's place was finally open and the young man found his way inside the house. It was dark, late, and freezing inside, so he was wondering whether he should just head up and go to bed or turn the heat up and hang out in the sitting room until his father would leave work. All of his options seemed awful, and he was considering blaming that on the fact he found himself rather nervous for the following day. But why? He wasn't the one getting married, Scott and Allison were. Perhaps it was the fact that Nicho, - Nick, only, - las was going to be there as well, with Lydia and his son. His son. Not Nick's. His son. However, he couldn't shake that sensation of uneasiness at the fact they'd be driving there together, like a family. They'd sit at the table, like a family. They'd engage in conversation, like a family. A family that was supposed to be his. How did things get so messed up? It hardly seemed fair.  _Breathe in, and breathe out, Stiles. At least he calls **you** dad._  

Fumbling with the collar of his uniform, he silently shut the door behind him, and it was only then he heard a noise coming from the living room. He had just got home, and he was pretty sure he had told his father he was heading out before leaving the station, so it couldn't be the Sheriff making a random noise on the other room. It was impossible to be in two places at once, right? As he slowly made his way to where the source of the noise was coming, he pulled out his gun from his side and pointed it blindly at whoever that was, whilst he took his free hand to the nearest light switch, instantly turning on the lights until he realised the person that had been asleep on the sofa was the mother of his child.

"Jesus, Lydia!" He huffed in annoyance, quickly slipping his gun on the holster again. "Do you break into everyone's houses, or you were just feeling adventurous by trying it in the Sheriff's house?" A soft laugh filled the silent room, and since it didn't come from him, he found himself rolling his eyes in discomfort. He was hopping to come home, and have a good night of sleep. Then again, why would he ever convince himself that was possible having his crazy life in consideration? Besides, it hadn't been a good day since he only got 10 minutes of lunch with his son, being called in for an emergency shortly after he sat with him. If there was anything he was sure of, it was that Lydia should not mess with him at that particular moment.

"Quite the police work, I see."

"Oh, quit being an ass." He grumbled, leading both his hands to his face where he rubbed at his temples with his palms. God, he needed to sleep. Badly. "What do you want?"

"Gee, someone's in a bad mood."

"Sorry," He murmured, doing his best to force a smile onto his face even if seeing her wasn't exactly on his to-do list for the day. Especially when he kept reminding himself he'd have to deal with her being held, and kissed by another man the following day. Well, not that he could run away from it, since they had a kid together, so he'd just have to suck it up. But he really did hope that jerk Nick would get sick and wouldn't be able to get out of bed. Wouldn't that be amazing? So, so amazing. For once, the universe could be on his side and grant his wish. It's not like anyone would miss him, anyway. Maybe Lydia would, but it's not like he cared. Perhaps spending some time apart was exactly what they needed for the relationship to end.  _Stop that, Stiles. Hating on someone, or someone's relationship won't make things better._ "It's been a long day. Do you want something to drink, or - I-I don't know, eat?"

"No, that's okay." She replied with a fond smile upon her face, clearly clueless about his real thoughts. "Nick's waiting for me, we'll -"  _There we go..._ He deliberately stopped hearing what she had to say about the other male, not sure if he'd be able to control himself or his own mouth from saying something stupid if he did pay attention. Who knew jealousy could be that much of a bitch, uh? "I'm only here to drop your tuxedo per Allison's request. Also, she asked, - more like, demanded, - me to tell you not to be late."

"Sure, thanks."

"I like the uniform, by the way."

"Yeah," He chuckled awkwardly, forcing a quick shrug of his shoulders as he slowly followed her towards the front door. "Feels good to be able to wear it."

"I figured."

Those last words seemed to be honest, and held a lot of emotion, and for some reason, he found himself wondering why. His life could be summed up in only two things lately, his job and his son. Even if it wasn't intentional, he had drifted apart from her. Maybe because he really wanted to work on being a father, when, honestly, Jonathan was his priority. Unconsciously or not, he pushed her away, and he was a little bit sorry for that. It looked like he had possibly lost her for good.

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

 

* * *

 

 

The morning after, Stiles had just finished putting on his gray suit and red bowtie when he headed down to the kitchen again, his brand new shoes clicking down on the floor quietly. Smoothing his tie carefully, - its colour was still a mystery to him, the only thing he knew was that it had been the colour Allison had chosen for her jewelry, and flowers, so Scott and Stiles had deliberately chosen to pick a red tie as well,  _perhaps it's because of Scott's alpha eyes? red for love.. wait, why am I trying to guess this anyway?_ \- he entered the room and reached out for another cup of coffee when his father stilled his movements by grabbing his wrist. Now, that was weird. No one had ever tried to stop him from having more than a cup of coffee in the morning, - well, maybe Lydia had tried that a couple of times before, thinking it'd only make more damage than good. But his dad? His dad would more often choose not to say anything about his habits, so they wouldn't end up arguing. It's not like he'd be able to change him, or his choices.

"No, no more coffee!"

"Dad -"

"Especially now after you got dressed. Are you trying to mess it up?"

With a quick roll of her eyes, the younger Stilinski was about to reach out for the coffee again, only to have the back of his hand slapped by his father. Only this time did he realise that his dad wasn't kidding. There was no way he was going to let him drink another mug of coffee, and though he really wanted to argue back, he realised he was late, and so he would have to leave that arguement for later. After being warned plenty of times by the brunette, he was actually going to be late. Not bothering to say anything else, he rushed out the door after grabbing his car keys, and drove to Allison's house. Old house, actually, considering Scott took their house to get ready. 

Chris Argent opened the door, and as his brown eyes landed on the older male, a soft smile appeared across his face. It wasn't every day you got to see Mr. Argent looking rather overwhelmed and emotional, and that was exactly the sight in front of him at that moment. Allison's father had tears in his eyes, tears that threatened to spill, if he wouldn't come up with a sarcastic comment that could possibly break the older man out of that situation by being easily annoyed by his words. 

"Now isn't it nice, your daughter is marrying a wolf."

"Gosh," The older man spoke as he moved aside in order to give Stiles enough space to get in. Once the door was safely locked, he continued before leading the younger male upstairs where his daughter had been calmly getting ready. Exactly, calmly. How was that possible? That was also a mystery. Usually brides go mad on their wedding day, right? Well, not Allison Argent. No, she was a lot calmer, calmer than everyone else she knew. Certainly calmer than Lydia who had been kicked out shortly after getting there, because she couldn't stop crying, whispering  _how beautiful it was, her best friend was getting married to the love of her life_ all the time. She had used that excuse in a rather polite manner, though what she really meant to say was  _get out of here and take your new boyfriend with you before Stiles gets here_. In a way, the strawberry blonde knew exactly why she had been kicked out. She had to know, seeing she didn't even fight back. Things do change, don't they? Most of the time, it's an actual shame. "I don't see how people missed you."

He didn't have much time to feel hurt, or offended by those words, or even the tone used to speak them, since the minute he gaped at the hunter, he couldn't help but notice the fond smile across his face, showing him he hadn't meant it. Clapping one of his hands on his back, Argent muttered. "You might wanna head upstairs. She's more than ready to kill you for the fact you're already," With a quick peek at his wristwatch, he continued. "18 minutes late. Go on, and it really is nice to have you back."

His head moved in its own accord with a quick nod, and then, he rushed upstairs, stopping a few inches away from his friend's bedroom door while he thought of what he was going to see on the other side of the door. To be fair, he wasn't exactly an emotional person, but it did make him feel a little bit too much excited for the fact he got to see two of his best friends getting married, after spending weeks thinking he had missed most of their lives. Their actual adult lives, lives they had built on their own. Looking down at himself, Stiles nodded to himself upon processing his thoughts, trying to calm and somewhat comfort himself having the situation in consideration, and only after that, he finally approached the wooden door and lifted his hand, which quickly closed in a fist, to knock only once and quietly on it. Suddenly, most of his nerves began to dissipate when he realised that the person on the other side of the door was someone who had always managed to keep the hyperactive spaz he was in control. Someone who could calm his nerves, doubts and intense anxiety with a mere smile. Someone he was about to walk down the aisle. Someone who had happily asked him to be the one to give her away. He couldn't deny that it made him curious about why wasn't Chris doing that in the first place, but he wasn't going to be the one complaining. No, he had an important role and he was going to take it proudly as the man he was. 

"Come in." Said a faint, sweet voice on the other side. A gentle grin spread across his face, and he finally opened the door to get inside. 

His eyes widened slightly in surprise, - a good kind of surprise, - and it almost felt like they were about to pop out of his head. She was.. wow. Her hands were glued to her front, smoothing her lace wedding dress, as she watched herself in the mirror. A mirror that held a blur of his reflection, and for a while, none of them spoke. Stiles took in the image in front of him, and for the first time that day, Allison seemed to be freaking out. Actually freaking out. Tears burned in her eyes as she did her very best not to let them fall and ruin her makeup, her whole body shook slightly and she did her best to straigthen her posture in order to take a last glance at herself. 

"You know," He cleared his throat harshly, hoping his voice wouldn't show how emotional he had allowed himself to feel at that moment. "I would marry you." That seemed to be enough to break his friend out of her haze, as a soft chuckle escaped her lips and the tears she had tried so hard not to let go, slipped down her cheeks. _Was that awkward? It was awkward. She was like his sister, after all. Awkward. Maybe not. Certainly not when it helped easing her nerves._

"You would?" It didn't take long until the male was standing right in front of her, his palms cupping her cheeks tenderly as he did his best to wipe the tears that nearly ruined someone's hard work, - _Lydia's job, he assumed, there was no way Ally was letting anyone else doing her makeup_ \- without making a mess himself. With a soft grin taking over his features, he didn't waste time bobbing his head excitedly as a choked laugh found its way out of his lips. 

"I would, you look.." Taking a step back, his hands held onto hers as he scanned her whole dress, not being able to stop himself from noticing how it showed off her curves. There was no doubt in his mind that Allison Argent was a beautiful woman. A really, really gorgeous and attractive woman. And if he was 15 and she wasn't dating his best friend, - also if he wasn't deeply, madly in love with Lydia Martin, - he'd have drooled at the sight of her clearly magnificent body in that beautiful dress. "..stunning."

"I was afraid you weren't coming."

"Me? Running? What made you think that?" His tone was obviously playful, in hopes that would be enough to earn another laugh from her. He ran before, he could easily do it again, but he wouldn't. He couldn't. He was happy with how his life had turned out, and he wasn't going to miss anything else that clearly belonged to him. 

Letting go of her hands, Stiles took a seat at the foot of the bed and observed the way the bride kept slipping her palms across her dress. He wasn't sure if that was a sign of anxiety, nervousness, or if she was merely trying to remove wrinkles, or if she was still trying to convince herself that all of that was really happening. She was getting married, to the man she loved. In all honesty, he never really did understand why people had such a hard time believing it was going to happen, that the best day of their lives was only a few minutes away, but looking over at the brunette, he figured that really did happen. Then again, he had never really been one to dream about a possible,  _beautiful, and magical_ wedding, - unless his bride was Lydia, - so it was understandable to him if Allison was still trying to wrap her head around the fact they had survived that far and she got to live such a beautiful day with everyone she loved. 

"You know, -" She started quietly, finally settling down as she sat beside him, carefully not to actually wrinkle her dress. "I always thought you and Lydia would get married first." Unfortunately, those words hurt him, even if that wasn't his friend's intention. Maybe they would have been married already if he hadn't left her. Not that mulling over what ifs would ever help him, but it still hurt him, and he couldn't help but imagine how their wedding day would have really been. Letting himself imagining it, he realised that he would have been as nervous as Allison was. It wasn't every day you got to marry the love of your life, and so he could finally understand why the weight of that was overwhelming. It was such a great thing, and not everyone got to live it. Many people married someone they loved, but not everyone got to spend the rest of their lives with the love of their life. Would Lydia have married him, if he hadn't left? 

No, he couldn't torture himself with those questions. 

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, you know Scott and I are living our epic love, but you and Lydia.." A long sigh slipped out her lips before she let a small smile being formed upon them. She was looking at everywhere else but him, and honestly, so was he. "Even before you were finally dating, Stiles, you were it. You had more than any other couple had with years of experience, you were.. different, but wonderful. I like to think that someday you still will be."

"I wouldn't bet on it."

"Don't be too hard on yourself."

"I'm not." He shrugged, hopping off the bed while unconsciously rubbing at this particular scar on his shoulder. Something he'd much rather forget, but in those little moments, he'd be reminded of it. A faint, but still present, pain would force him to think about it as he pressed the pads of his fingers against it, and tried to make it stop. "What Lydia and I have.. I ruined it, Ally. The only thing that links us together is Jonathan. Not that I'm complaining, I love my son. But what made us, us, is over. I ruined it."

"Sometimes things change," She said, standing up as well. "Changing isn't always bad. I repeat, you're Stiles and Lydia. For crying out loud, you'd sit on the couch and watch Grey's Anatomy with her when you knew she'd be complaining the whole time about how surreal it was, how that was not the best choice of treatment. You knew she'd be complaining about it for endless hours, and yet you'd still let her choose it. She'd let you watch Star Wars every weekend only because she found it amusing how exciting you got whenever your favourite parts were on. Not to mention that the both of you moaned about how ridiculous some things were in horror movies, or how some things would only happen in romantic comedies. You've always been drawn to each other, Nick won't change that."

"Nick didn't change anything, -" He murmured, though allowing herself to replay those moments in his head over and over again. He had been truly happy, that was something he couldn't deny. "I did." But in the end, he was always going to be self-destructive. Good memories couldn't change that. 

Silence surrounded them for a while, and that was exactly what Allison needed to know in order not to mention that subject again. Once Stiles Stilinski stopped talking about what truly bothered him, you wouldn't insist on bringing it up, that would only make it worse. Therefore, her chocolate brown eyes fell on her reflection in the mirror again as she scanned her body from the tip of her toes to the top of her head. Her dark curls were untamed as usually, but her hair was up per Scott's request. Apparently, there was something about her neck that had always left him delirious, - as if she didn't know that already. Her engagement ring shone on her finger, but not as much as her dimpled smile did. And it didn't take her long to realised that her bright grin was matched with one of Stiles'. Stiles who held her bouquet of beautiful red roses, and though it felt cliché, she couldn't help but stare down at the dark colour and remember how much she loved her soon to be husband's eyes. That strong, glowing red eyes of his, that was a part of the wonderful man he was, - a part that she loved deeply. A part that a few years back would have been the one thing that would stop her from marrying him, when it was also the one thing she loved the most about him. It's not like she was planning on standing in front of many people and say 'the thing I love the most about you is that you're a true alpha', no. But who really got to know their relationship knew that their differences were also the things that kept them together. 

Carefully wrapping her fingers around her bouquet, she picked it up and inevitably smelled the flowers. Strong, long fingers wrapped around her own, and she allowed herself to be led out of her room and finally downstairs where her father awaited them patiently. A quick peek out the window was enough to stop her from walking though, and with his brows furrowed, Stiles glanced over at his friend who was narrowing her eyes suspiciously at whatever she was seeing. 

"Are you seriously driving me there on your /jeep/?"

"Yes," Allison arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him, and if she wasn't gripping tightly on his hand, he would have fallen off the stairs with the power of her glare. Because, really, if glares could kill... "I like to think my jeep had an important role in your beautiful relationship."

"Well..."

"Well?"

"I guess it's family after all."

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as he parked in front of the church, he was pretty sure Allison had stopped breathing. If that situation was any different, he would have found it rather hilarious, but at that particular moment, he realised that her nerves were finally settling in and she didn't know how to deal with it. Not that he knew either, seeing Scott was always the one who comforted her. In a way, that was his job, right? And even if in the past he had also managed to do the same thing, when he found himself in that situation, he kind of forgotten each and every one of his tricks. That was his friend, there had to be something he could say to her that would help her calming down, right? Something, anything at all, she wasn't asking for much.

"Ally," He spoke in a hushed tone, one of his hands cupping the back of one of hers. "This is your day. I get that many people have already told you that, assuring you that it would be as special as you expected it to be. And you look gorgeous, stunningly beautiful. I'm not surprised, and neither will he be. Truth is, you are the most beautiful woman to him every day. No dress, no jewerly, no ring on your finger will ever change that. Yes, this is surely important and it's the very proof that your love is real, that your love is strong, that's there." His forefinger pointed out at the place where her heart was, and then he continued. "But you're his woman. You've been his woman for a long time now. By the end of this day, you'll still be beautiful to him. As beautiful as you were yesterday, or maybe even more. And he loves you, deeply. He's absolutely crazy about you. So get your ass out of my fabulous jeep and let me walk you down that aisle because in there is the man that is dying to put a ring on your finger, a clear proof and declaration of his love for you."

That seemed to be enough to help her, since she nodded eagerly, - he purposely ignored the tears that were pooling in her eyes, not wanting to say anything about them considering he was far too scared she'd let them fall, - and asked him to step out of the car and help her out quietly. He was more than happy to comply. The most important thing at the moment to him was to lead her into that church and give her away. 

A pair of hands grabbed his own, the bouquet carefully being held by her father who was waiting quietly at the door of the church. Amber eyes met chocolate ones, and lips curved in loving smiles. That was the start of something amazing, he knew that even if they hadn't even stepped in the church yet. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion as Allison carefully hopped off the jeep only to be held by her friend who was watching her closely, his arms ready to catch her if needed, - the last thing they both wanted being a dirty wedding dress or a bride injured on the ground. A slender arm curled around a muscular one after the door of the car was closed quietly, their intention never being one to startle the people who were already inside and waiting for the wedding to start. The bouquet was delivered back to her and with a quick hug, Chris made his way inside and took his seat. His free hand covered the one that was wrapped around his elbow, and his smile widened. 

"Why isn't your dad giving you away?" He couldn't help but ask, and that bright grin was replaced by a nostalgic one for a fragment of seconds as she murmured against his shoulder. 

"We figured it would be best if he'd fill the void my mother left. I asked him to be both a father, and a mother. And, -" With a quick, but still soft, sigh, she continued. "I couldn't think of anyone else to give me away. You're a part of us, you know that, right?"

"I know that."

"Also, we figured you'd be sad to know that Scott had chosen Jonathan to be his best man."

Not being able to hold back a chuckle at that smart, yet somewhat teasing, comment, Stiles helped her up the three stairs at the entrance of the church and took a quick, last glance at her before scanning the whole place. Scott had his back turned to them, perhaps still unaware of the fact that his bride was already prepared to go in and marry him, and so he used that as his last chance to tell her something that would possibly keep her calm.

"Thank you for letting me do this," He said in a soft murmur while squeezing her hand gently. "Thank you for leting me be a part of this. You've made me really happy with it. Now, you're a beautiful bride and I'm dying to see Scott's face as soon as he sees how magnificent you look. So, shall we?" A nod was enough of an answer, and shortly after that, their presence was announced by the tune, but before he'd be able to give that first step, she pulled him back.

"Do what I did, okay? Fight for who and what you want. No one can blame you for that, even if it's selfish."

Their eyes met briefly as his fingers brushed against the back of her hand, before his arm dropped at his side. A part of him wanted to argue back, say that was crazy, accept the advice, thank for it, but upon seeing the way her lips curled in a gracious smile, he unconsciously smiled back while turning to face all those people that had been so eager to see the beautiful Allison. The first step was clearly the hardest one, he knew that by the way she gripped tightly on his arm but slowly released it the closer they got to the aisle, his best friend's brown eyes glowing almost as much as his wolf's ones would. Multiple gasps were still heard over the slight music that filled the place, several pair of eyes had been drowned in tears by the moment itself, and if he wasn't too busy trying not to trip and make that moment embarrassing, he would have cried as well. Hazel eyes met his brown over the crowd, and as he sensed the amusement and love in them, he let himself smile at Lydia, doing all he could to ignore the way another hand, - not his, but someone else's, - squeezed her shoulder in some sort of comfort touch. Envy rushed through him, but the only thing you could see in his face was happiness, and pride. Because he was beyond happy and proud. What he lost, what he could have had but didn't, **who** he left behind didn't matter. Not when Scott's hand stretched out in their direction, and Allison took it without a second thought. That was love. Perhaps someday he'd be able to feel it again. 

 

* * *

 

 

"That's a reckless move!" Jay said in an upset tone, a scowl finding its way to his adorable face as he stared quietly at the chess board. "It's like you're not even trying!"

Intimate touches and words had been shared quietly by Lydia and her new boyfriend the whole day. Stiles had been unable to rip his eyes off them most of the time, it was too tempting to look away. Everywhere he turned, there they were, wrapped around each other and acting more in love than Scott and Allison truly were. It was killing him on the inside, he'd be lying if he said it wasn't, but he still couldn't look away. His mind tormented him almost as much, making him wonder how in the hell did a girl like that end up with one of those guys. He kept telling himself that was jealousy talking, and not what he truly thought. Well, the rest of people seemed to believe they were an adorable couple as well. But the more he watched them, the more he realised that he wasn't good enough for her, but neither was that _dude_. What did she see in him? And what on earth made them so good?

None of that mattered, anyway. His son had pushed him out of his thoughts and begged him to head over to where the chess boards were so he could play with someone, and he'd watch. So that was exactly what he was doing, amusement filling his eyes when he realised that Chris wasn't putting up much of a fight, and Jonathan wasn't enjoying that in the slightest.

"Who brings chess boards to a wedding?"

"Have you met your son?" A familiar voice filled his ears, startling him slightly since he hadn't been talking to anyone in particular, and he wasn't expecting anyone to answer his question. Ripping his eyes away from the game, he glanced up at Liam as one of his eyebrows rose curiously. "He's a genius. The reason why there are any chess boards is because of him. Apparently, he doesn't even like clowns."

"Can you blame him? You never know who's behind a mask."

"It's surprising how you two are so much alike." The older male's eyes rolled to the back of his head at the rather unnecessary comment coming from his old friend, the urge to answer any sarcastic remark flowed through him but he managed to keep it under control. Following his friend, Stiles let himself being led to one of the tables where he took a seat. "How are you? About, you know.."

"Do I?"

"Come on," No, no, Liam, don't mention it, because if you do, he'll end up looking over at the couple and that was the last thing he wanted. Especially after all the effort he put into avoiding them. He'd have to resist it. "You know. She's with someone else, that has to bother you at least slightly, seeing you both have a kid together."

"Mind your own business, Dunbar."

"You are my business!"

Brown eyes gazed up into blue ones and a frown was formed on Stiles' face. Liam was probably the person he hadn't got to spend much time with yet, though they'd meet once in a while whenever Scott invited them both over. Honestly, he was probably the person that welcomed him the best. He knew that everyone had been good to him the minute they found out he was back, but the beta wolf had been the only one who wouldn't tense up every time he saw him, and things weren't awkward between them either. They had just.. found a way to get along like before without much effort. 

"I'm fine, I-I mean -" He scoffed, leaning back on his seat while scanning the whole room around him, only to realise that Lydia was beside Allison and Nick was nowhere in sight. Thank God, he feared he might threw up in his mouth a little if he had to keep staring at him. "Why is it so hard for all of you to believe that?"

"Maybe because you love her." The other male blurted out, never being one to control himself or his words, and the weight of them. Not that he blamed the younger man, since he was just the same. Speaking thoughtlessly was surely his gift. "And maybe because she's dating a man that has been around your kid for a bit."

"Liam, trust me, I'd have told her if it bothered me."

"Would you, though?" Would he just  _stop_? It was pointless hoping he'd just drop the subject, when he was probably trying so hard by Scott's request. There was no way he'd just forget about it until he got some answers, but Stiles had gone through enough to know how to resist temptation and handle some torture. Usually, there wasn't much that could get him to talk. "Because they came to your best friends' wedding as a family, and you've been staring at them all day with a sad puppy expression all over your face."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Would you just admit it's hurting you so we can all move on with our lives?"

"Jeez, Liam. I had no idea you were that considerate with my feelings."

"Honestly? This is crap!" Brown eyes narrowed as some sort of warning. He wanted that conversation to end. If he kept telling himself, and everyone else, that he was okay, he would be eventually. So, what was the point in forcing him to admit that every part of his body ached for the strawberry blonde woman and that it pained him, profoundly, that he'd never get her back? That wouldn't help any of them, not when he spent too many years pining for the girl and whining about how happy he could make her. They both had made different decisions, that forced them into different paths, if he could accept that, so should everyone else. He was always going to yearn for her. That was a part of who he was, loving her was a part of who he was. It was never going away. "If all of us can see that you guys were made for each other, why is that so hard for the both of you?"

"What do you win with this, man? Nothing! If I'm not complaining, why are you?"

"Because you should be complaining. That Nick guy isn't good enough for her, he surely isn't enough for your son. Not to mention that he's probably the biggest jerk I've ever seen."

"That's because you haven't met Jackson."

"What?"

"Nothing. Just drop it, alright? I'll complain if I have to. Now, please.. forget about it."

Liam's mouth opened to complain, but upon seeing the look on his friend's face, he decided not to. Jesus, he could honestly be insufferable sometimes. It was written all over his face that he wanted her, that he wished he could be with her, why was it so hard to fight back?

Before the blonde got to say something else, he pulled himself on his feet again and with a last glance around him, he headed out for some fresh air. Undoing his tie, he let it hanging from his neck while unbuttoning three of the top buttons of his white shirt, hoping that would be enough to give him the air he needed. Suddenly, he seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. It was clear that the mere subject of Lydia was enough to weaken him. It hardly seemed fair. Why did she get to affect him that much when he had no absolute effect on her? Stepping out, the cold night air finally filled his lungs and his eyes fluttered shut as he tilted his chin upwards and a quiet hum of approval escaped his lips. Part of him believed that hunting a werewolf was a lot less tiring than a freaking wedding. If it weren't for Allison or Scott, he would have stayed home, because even if he refused to admit, all of that was killing him slowly. Nicholas got what he wanted, what he had wished for, for so long. Those reasons were only enough to get him to hate the guy.

The nighttime sky came into his line of vision as he slowly forced his eyes open once again, and not long after he stared at the twinkling stars, a faint voice reached his ears, followed by a rougher one. 

"Leave me alone!" Alerted, he followed that voice with quick, large steps until his eyes landed on the scene before him. Nick, - tipsy Nick, - was forcing _his_ kid towards one of the clowns, even after hearing each protest coming from the child's mouth. A rather cynical laugh was heard from the man that had been dating the mother of his child, many other people following suit as they watched the way Jonathan struggled to get away.

"Come on Jonathan, it's just a clown. Go say hi!"

"Take your paws off my son, you asshole!"

Startled, the slightly taller man turned to face the officer who was far too close, nearly driving his fist into his face. Nearly, yes, because his impulsive decision, that brusque action he was more than prepared to have, was prevented by the 6 year old that wrapped his arms around his hips and held him tightly. Strong hands buried in smooth dark hair instead while he peeked own at the boy, sorrow filling his features and he swallowed thickly upon seeing those heavy tears forming in innocent hazel eyes.

"If you ever come near him, I swear to God I won't hesitate killing you with my service weapon, got it?" Small hands tugged ferociously at his jacket, doing their best to get the man's attention as fear washed through the small boy. Leaning down, he picked his son up in his arms and noticed how he wasted no time in wrapping both his arms and legs around his body safely. A growl found its way out of his plump lips at the mere thought of what had just happened, and his free hand clutched at the doctor's collar agressively. Fingers were inches away from that throat, and it took him all the control he had not to wrap them around it and squeeze it instead. "I mean it, do you hear me?"

"Stiles, leave it!" Scott's voice surrounded him, soothing him a bit. "I'll take care of it."

With a last glance around him, he took in the sight of the crowd that surrounded him and watched everything. That was almost enough to distract him from the boy that held tightly onto him, until a sob was released against his neck and his eyes were squeezed shut at the pain that rushed through his body for knowing that his son was hurting.

"You should all be ashamed of yourselves."

"Dad..."

"Shh, I know bud," He murmured into the kid's hair, his fingers slipping through it and scratching his scalp gently, in a slow massage. "It's okay."

 

* * *

 

 

All the Stilinski men had been sitting near the lake, watching the ducks in the water quietly as none of them knew what to say at the moment. Stiles had apologised over and over again, although none of them could affirm it was his fault. Jonathan had shrugged his small shoulders anxiously at each apology, not wanting his father to feel bad since there wasn't much he could have done. And Noah.. well, Noah was happy to sit silently behind them and purely watch them together. 

Jay twisted in his father's lap for what felt like the thousandth time, trying to find the best angle to observe the small ducks swimming around. His thumbs at been fumbling with the buttons of his jacket, as several thoughts went through his mind and he murmured quietly meanwhile.

"What is it, Jay?"

"Did you know that the most famous fictional duck is Donald? From Disney?" Stiles' eyes widened in surprise, both at what had just slipped off his kid's lips and the fact he was no longer letting himself affected by what had _just_ happened. Not wanting to see him that sad either, he merely shook his head, allowing the small boy to continue his train of thought. "It premiered in 1934, and three years later, the second most famous fictional duck that premiered was Daffy Duck, from Warner Bros'. You know who that is, right? Bugs Bunny's friend?" A soft chuckle escaped his father's mouth and he couldn't help but notice the way he nodded, as his grandfather smiled proudly at the both of them.

"I think I have an idea of who that is."

"You know, most male ducks are quiet too. Usually ducks don't quack much." He continued with a small shrug of his shoulders as his head rested against his dad's chest. "They also eat grass, insects, fruit, fish..."

"Is that so?" The boy nodded against his shirt, and he propped his chin on the top of his head fondly. "How do you know all that?"

"Documentaries."

"You watch those?" The surprise was evident in his tone, and Jonathan smiled with another nod of his head. "Really?"

"Sheriff Stilinski, -" He furrowed his brows, shaking his head quickly. "I mean, grandpa, - he always said you liked them."

"Before you met me?"

"Yes."

Stiles glanced over at his father who had just sat beside them, his arms tightly wrapped around his kid as a soft breeze passed by them and caused the boy to shiver slightly. A kind smile was spread across Noah's face as he nodded before he spoke up for the first time since they walked away from the party.

"I'd love to hear more about ducks." Jay's head raised in excitement as he looked at the oldest Stilinski, his lips curling up in a wide smile. "I think dad has to go inside, would you stay with me and tell me more?"

"Dad..."

"Go, Stiles."

Stiles bobbed his head in agreement, letting his son hop off his lap and onto his grandfather's so he could stand up and leave. The anger that had slowly subsided minutes ago flashed across his face as he climbed up a small hill and made his way back inside. Thankfully, Nick was nowhere in sight, but neither was Lydia. With harsh, long steps he was about to step out and look for her again when Allison grabbed one of his elbows and pulled him closer to the dance floor.

"Not now, Ally."

"Yes, now." She spoke in a hushed tone, pushing one of his arms around her waist as she took his free hand into one of her own. Slowly, they began to sway to the song that began playing shortly after he was captured by his best friend. "There's no way I'm letting you talk to her like that. You're enraged. It never helps you."

"I'm sure I'm allowed to let my emotions cloud my judgement at this particular moment." Although he was holding her close as they swayed across that specific space, he still found himself avoiding her eyes, or even look at her. The biggest part of his brain refused to deal with sympathetic facial expressions. He didn't need sympathy, or to be pitied. He needed to speak to his ex, to solve that problem before it'd eat him up. That situation was never going to repeat itself, or else he won't be as calm next time.

"She didn't know that would happen."

"Does that excuse the fact she chose to introduce a man she barely knew to her son?  **My** son?" His harsh tone was mixed with a soft growl while he kept looking at everything but his friend who was currently clinging to him as if her life depended on it. "Has she done that with every man she's dated ever since he was born?"

"I don't think she has dated much since..." It was clear she feared finishing that sentence, and he didn't even try stopping himself from rolling his eyes. ".. since you left, Stiles. She surely hasn't introduced anyone to Jonathan either."

"Well, nice way to start then."

"She didn't mean it."

"Well, I'm sure that by tomorrow neither did he mean to hurt my kid." Finally, his eyes met another pair of brown ones, and the look of understanding that covered her face almost maddened him even more. "But he did. And what am I supposed to do with that? Just stand by and watch? I've lost enough, Allison. I'm not gonna lose my son."

A sudden movement caught his eye, and he quickly let go of the brunette, his gaze landing on the strawberry blonde who approached them carefully, almost fearfully. Taking a deep breath, he did his best to avoid the regret written across her face as he held out one of his hands and quickly pulled her closer, merely murmuring a 'dance with me' while he brought them farther away from everyone else.

"Stiles!"

He deliberately ignored Allison's words and desperate pleas that would get him to calm down. 'Home' by Daughtry started playing the second one of his hands dropped on her hipbone, her hand squeezing his and he almost laughed at the irony of those lyrics. Her hand clutched tightly at one of his shoulders, their eyes meeting briefly as they began to move in slow motion. The only thing he was hoping for was that he got to be as confident as he imagined himself to be every time he pictured that conversation. However, it was hardly possible while being around her. Her presence had an effect on him, like nothing ever did. It weakened him, and strengthened him at the same time. It was almost annoying, - and slightly terrifying at the same time. 

"I'm so sorry."

"Do I get to demand anything?" He mumbled instead of letting that apology change his mind from the decision he had made when he was sitting by the lake. 

"Stiles, -"

"I don't want him near our kid again." Her eyes widened slightly, even if that didn't come as shocking to her. It was, after all, expected. "He's a doctor, Lydia. And even if this is a party, it doesn't excuse his behaviour. You don't see me inebriated, do you? And yet, it's both my best friends' wedding. He drove here with two people, shouldn't that be enough of a reason not to drink?"

"You're exaggerating, he -"

"I don't care, I don't give a damn about what makes him so special. I don't care if he's honorable, if he's a great man, if he has saved many people, if he rarely ever does stuff like that. It's my kid, and though I haven't been around much, I'm not letting anyone harm him in any way." By then, they had stopped dancing and were merely staring at each other. "If you don't dignify yourself to a little respect, Lydia, our son will deal with the consequences too."

"I've heard enough." She struggled out of his grasp, only to be pulled back into his embrace again. There wasn't much distance between them, and she was pretty sure she had nearly forgotten how to breathe, or even talk. His scent surrounded her, the lingering smell of his aftershave making her knees go weak. Truthfully, she had missed all of that from him. His mouth opened slightly again to defend their son, rightfully so, and her hazel orbs focused on the way his plump lips moved with each word slipping out of them.

"I'm not going to say he doesn't deserve a place in our child's life, because that's obvious. But I feel the need to tell you, he doesn't deserve you either."

"Really?"

"You've grown, Lydia." This time, he let go of her, and she found herself already missing his intoxicating perfume that made her feel dizzy, and made her crave for more at the same time. "You're no longer the woman that wouldn't mind being mistreated by some douchebag guy that isn't even enough to love you properly. Don't go back to those old days when you allowed everything, and didn't ask for much. You'll lose yourself, and with you.. you'll take Jay with you. I've already lost you, don't make me lose my son as well."

 

* * *

 

 

After that intense conversation, Stiles had done everything in his power to avoid the strawberry blonde woman. The way she looked at him after he let out everything he had to say was still tormenting his mind, assuring him that maybe there was no need why he should have been that harsh, - in a way, she suffered with that too. All of it was killing him for not being able to make it better, - not that he tried, anyway, - and so his best option was definitely to stay away from her. Lydia had a very powerful effect on him, a complete control over him and his actions, and at that right moment, it nearly felt like that effect, that control, wouldn't be a good thing. No, he'd probably end up saying something even worse, that would hurt her even more, - something he wouldn't be able to take back. 

He was sitting, watching the firework quietly when a pair of small hands covered his eyes cheekily, and he had to laugh at that. Humming in response, he faked confusion, curiosity, to know who was standing right behind him when, deep down, he knew perfectly who that was. His fingertips tapped slightly on the back of those hands, as a quick gasp rushed out of his lips.

"Oh, my god, is this Bugs Bunny?" Another hum was heard, followed by a slight gasp. "No, wait! It's Daffy Duck!"

"No!" A giggle broke free as Jay jumped onto his lap, and he gladly held his son closer. "It's just me."

"Hi..." Another voice, unexpected one at that, was heard and he quickly turned to face that person. Her lips held one of the smallest, still shy, smiles he had ever seen on her face, and he frowned. "Will you drive me home?"

"Where's Nick?" The hostility was still present in his voice, but that didn't mean he wasn't genuinely curious. Confused, too, two of the emotions he had been faking just a few seconds ago. Where was the famous, amazing boyfriend, after all?

"I called him a cab. He's heading home now." She replied with a coy tone, gulping hardly as she came to the conclusion it wasn't going to be easy to convince him that she wanted his company - his help. "I didn't feel like riding home alone."

"So I'm a replacement?"

"No, you're a choice. You've always been a choice."

A long sigh fell out of his lips, but he still stood on his feet, his tie long forgotten in one of his pockets while he fished for his keys on the other one. Handing them to their son, Stiles eyed the boy with a mischievous smile whilst his hand landed on her lower back, guiding her towards the parking lot. The touch, though, was nothing but a result of his subconscience.

"I'll give you 5 bucks if you manage to open up the jeep."

"Deal." With that, their kid took off running.

"I'm sorry," She spoke up, the minute Jonathan wasn't near them to hear the conversation. Her hold on her purse was tight, a sign of her nervousness that made his mind restless. "I really am."

"I know."

"I won't let it happen again. From now on, I won't let anyone around Jonathan unless I'm entirely certain is the right thing to do." She said honestly, his appreciation clear on his facial expression. "I value your opinion. You're his dad, you know what's best for him. I'd have asked the same thing if anyone you were seeing would try to hurt him, in any way." Not that she'd bring herself to admit it, but thinking about a possibility of him dating someone else, - someone that wasn't her, - made her feel uneasy, sad. But she had forced herself to move on, it was only fair if Stiles did, too. "Thank you, though. For taking care of me as well. I appreciate it."

"Of course," He nodded. "Always."


	9. when all is crumbling, I'll steady your hand

The postcard laid casually on the dark kitchen island along with the rest of the less important mail, the aroma of a homemade meal lingering in the air as a male figure moved quickly around his kitchen, a dish cloth over one of his shoulders as he stirred the sauce rapidly with his right hand while his left one checked on the rest of the food. Million thoughts filled his usually restless mind, the most persistent one being the last conversation he had with the mother of his child.

_"Are we still coming over for dinner?" Lydia asked on the other side of the line, her voice that always soothed him, the calm of it relaxing him, and the uneasiness he felt almost all the time, pouring honey in his soul and forcing a smile onto his face was slightly shaky, which was unusual. What could be the reason behind that trembling voice? Nervousness? Possibly anxiety? No, he was the anxious one in that relationship. Maybe it was the fear of being rejected? It had taken him a while to see that he wasn't the only one allowed to feel that, since apparently anyone who had the power to love someone else was always going to feel insecure. Perhaps it was part of the deal, it all came with the whole package. Still, he couldn't wrap his head around Lydia Martin being scared of rejection, because, really, who could reject that wonderful woman?_

_"Of course." He answered instantly, though different thoughts and ideas kept popping into his mind. "Mac and cheese okay?"  There was some sort of playfulness in his tone, something he had been absolutely terrified that would no longer belong to their relationship. Not and especially after what happened in their friends' wedding. Stiles had been angry for a while, - he figured he would be for a very long time, it was only fair, - and Lydia had been embarrassed, keeping a certain distance from the man at the mere thought of losing what was left of their relationship/connection._

_"Can't you put some effort into our family dinner?"_

_"So that's what this is?" He questioned quietly, leaning back on the kitchen island, - new kitchen island on his newly purchased apartment, that pride that flowed through him nearly suffocated him by how happy it made him, knowing he was finally able to continue living his life as he always pictured himself doing, - a sudden, and lately, rare glint of happiness in his smile._

_"Maybe you should go for spaghetti and meatballs instead. That's his favourite." She replied, deliberately ignoring his question._

_"Really? Why am I not surprised?"_

_"You're not gonna tell me that every kid seems to love that, will you?"_

_"Actually..."_

_"Well, to be fair, he's different from other kids in every other aspect." He could have honestly tried to argue with her on that with the single purpose of pissing her off, but she was definitely right when it came to that so there was no possible argument that would make sense._

_"Spaghetti and meatballs it is, then."_

_"Okay, we will be there around 7 then."_

_"That's a deal."_

It was 6:48pm and soon enough his son and the mother would be coming over, and he was literally running around like crazy as he tried to have everything prepared for them. That was going to be the first time Lydia was going to come over and see his new apartment, which meant that everything had to be perfectly tidied for her, considering he planned on making a good impression. Everything had worked out just fine with Jonathan, he had loved the place and was truly excited to have his own room at his dad's new home, something he unfortunately didn't get at his grandfather's.

Taking another look at the postcard, a soft smile spread across his face while one of his forefingers slipped across his sharp jawline.  _'We're having so much fun. It's beautiful here.'_ It said, and there was no doubt that Stiles was just as thrilled for his friends. A week after their wedding, in their fabulous honeymoon, Scott had decided to send him a postcard to let him know how much they were loving being so far away from their hometown. Away from intense drama, crazy supernatural encounters, messed up memories of the past. Not that he believed everyone thought of that place like he did, - to be honest, it had been a while since he linked Beacon Hills to pain, - but it surely had to feel good being able to escape for a few days, whether or not they were in their honeymoon. No work, no conflictuous things that sadly stole their time together, no friends or family around, - that though they were to supposed to fill in the blanks and be there for them, it didn't mean it was always pleasant, - no detours that one of them would have to take, and consequently would drift them away. Just them, in an exotic place, living a new adventure, together, with no one else around them, - no one that could steal their time anyway, time they were wasting on each other. Wasting didn't seem to be the right term, though, but he didn't have a chance to think on a better one since someone had rung the bell over 5 times. Repeatedly. Nonstop. Until he finally opened the door, and let an eager boy rush in towards the sofa. 

"Didn't you get a cramp on that finger, bud?"

"Hmm," Came as an answer as a pair of hazel eyes focused intently on a random documentary about the massive migration of zebras.

Lydia, however, stood quietly by the door, taking in the whole place in front of her before finally stepping inside. Her back was instantly pressed against the door once it was closed, both her hands gripping tightly on her back as she furrowed her brows and observed the shades of black that covered the living room walls. Looking over at the black wood-panelled walls in the kitchen, the corners of her mouth turned upwards as her head gave a slight shake, as if she truly wasn't that surprised with any of that. Their son wasn't that bothered either, since he simply sat quietly on the leather couch, his legs obviously not reaching the floor but still crossed at his ankles, while he held the tv remote tightly in one of his small hands and memorised every new detail and fact about zebras.

"Interesting choice of colours." She said, finally, while dropping her purse, keys and pager carelessly over the table by the entrance. Her coat was quickly hung by the door as well, before she followed him into the kitchen, facing his back as he finalised a few things so their meal was prepared, once and for all.

"I like it, it soothes me."

"Isn't it a little bit dark?"

"We've seen darkness as it truly is, Lyds." He replied, the sass clear in his tone as he began preparing each plate by placing the spaghetti on it and the meatballs on top of it. "That's just a colour. Besides, I'm not particularly fond of living in an easter basket." She didn't even attempt to hide her eye roll.

"This place seems huge, though." She decided to change the topic, wanting to avoid a possible eye roll or a snort that would get them to start bickering, or perhaps even worse, arguing, for no good reason. Besides, she was not willing to tell him he was right. After facing what darkness truly meant, a darker colour shouldn't scare her. Not when the apartment itself looked great. He had done an amazing work with the decoration, too. It also had an amazing view, she thought, as her eyes peeked out the living room window. The moonlight peeked through the large window, showing off their son's beautiful features as it filled the room, which was dimly lit up. The sight of that brought a smile to her lips while she noticed the way their kid relaxed on the sofa and watched the zebras' wild life. 

"Yeah, three bedrooms and two bathrooms. It doesn't have a balcony, or a courtyard, or anything, where he can play, but at least he gets his own room."

"No offense, but can you really afford this place?" 

"Not that it should concern you," His tone was kind, there was nothing snappy about it, he merely didn't want to worry the other woman with something like that. Honestly, he figured he had already made her worried with enough for the past years. "But Liam has moved in with me for a bit. Either -"

"Liam?"

"Either way," This time, it was clear that he was warning her as amusement took over his features. "I would have been able to afford it, yes. And yes, Liam. He has promised to be a good influence on Jay, don't worry."

"I'm not worried about that." She cleared her throat, folding her arms nervously as her fingernails rounded one of her elbows in a rather slow motion. "I was only wondering why."

"He needs a place to stay," He started with a quick shrug of his shoulders. "And I figured I didn't want to be alone. Anyway, sit, let's eat."

It didn't feel like Jonathan was listening to their conversation, but the second he heard the words  _let's eat_ he hopped off the couch and ran to one of the stools, pushing himself with a lot of effort into it, as a squeal of excitement escaped his lips and two of his fingers picked a meatball, pushing it clumsily into his small mouth. Stiles snorted, and Lydia really intended to look upset upon seeing the whole scene, but as soon as she noticed how sauce covered his chin and his skin around his mouth, a quiet chuckle found its way out of her mouth. Hearing herself, though, she immediately slapped one of her hands into her mouth in order to prevent another laugh to slip out, knowing that would only encourage their young boy and that was certainly not something they needed. It didn't matter he was a quiet, calm kid, he was still a kid.

Both adults took a seat in their respective places, and began eating quietly until the strawberry blonde suddenly noticed a familiar postcard sitting beside her. Seeing the image on it, she didn't even attempt reading the message, knowing she had gotten one just like that a few days ago, as well. 

"Is it wrong if I feel jealous?" The puzzled look on Stiles' face showed her that he had no idea what she was talking about, so she pointed out at the message next to her. His facial expression softened slightly, and after letting out a quiet laugh, he quickly shook his head negatively. No, she shouldn't feel jealous, a part of him also wished he was somewhere else, away from everything, with his family. Which obviously included Lydia, how could it not? It didn't matter if they had drifted away for a while, he still wanted her in his life. 

"Not really, no. I just don't get what's with people choosing deserted islands for their honeymoon."

"It's a rainforest, Stiles. Not an island."

"You know what I meant," She glared at his words, and he rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Okay, fine, it's a rainforest, a jungle, whatever. You still know what I meant. What's with everyone choosing to either be Tarzan or sit in the sun forever?"

"Not everyone would rather be in a snowy or rainy place like you, Stiles."

"Really? You're going there?"

"What?" She smiled innocently, twirling her fork down at the spaghetti before bringing it up to her mouth. "I'm just saying, not everyone -"

"You know, rain is good. It waters plants, trees and farmers’ crops. It also cools down the earth and even if you like sun baths, that's good for our planet. Less risk of skin cancer, -"

"Jonathan." She warned, watching their kid poking a meatball with his forefinger until it dug in it.

"We can also jump in puddles and look at the bright side mom, you can save a trip to car wash!" Lydia really did try to stop him from looking at all the great aspects of rain, knowing it would make the male smug. And it did, but at first, he was too busy smiling proudly at his smart kid.

"Where would you go on your honeymoon, then?"

She wasn't sure why he'd change the topic right into a question like that, she didn't know what was his intention or what he was really trying to find out. Normally, she wouldn't put that much thought into something as simple as that, but it was hard not to. Truth is, she had already imagined herself in several places with  **him** , she found it harder than she cared to admit to picture herself else where, with someone else. Someone that wasn't him, - her Stiles. 

Shaking her head slightly in order to erase all those bad thoughts from her mind, she was happy to play along instead of making that a serious conversations. "Hmm, the Caribbean islands..." That earned an inevitable snort from the male, and she frowned.

"Really?" He gaped at her, the fork slipping through his fingers and falling on his plate with a clatter. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, what's so bad about that?"

"You, Lydia Martin? A control freak? Would go to a place with risk of hurricanes for a honeymoon?" That revelation seemed to shock him, but certainly not as much as her following words did. If the boy sitting with them hadn't chuckled, rather amused with the situation itself, he would have thought there was some weird presence in his new apartment messing with him, making him hear things, or he was just probably dreaming.

"Where would you take me?"

"Paris."

"Really, you're that cliché?" She teased, forcing him to narrow his brown eyes at her. 

"You like Paris."

"For a trip, random one at that, not honeymoon." Those words slipped between her lips while Jay pushed his empty plate to the middle of the kitchen island, clearly satisfied with the dinner as he jumped off the stool and quickly made his way towards the nearest bathroom in order to wash his hands and face, without having to be asked to. His parents watched him quietly, but quickly continued their conversation. "Come on, Stiles, you're a creative guy. Why don't you really put some thought into it and think about where you would really take me?"

"Does it matter?"

"Does it?" She knew he hated when she answered his questions with another one, but it was too tempting not to do that. Besides, he was always so easy to annoy.

Gathering the dirty dishes quietly with the woman, he stood on his feet and headed to the sink, placing everything down before watering them and handing them to Lydia so she could place them on the dishwasher. Meanwhile, he allowed silence, - comfortable, pleasant silence, honestly, not really awkward or embarrassing; she had always been the only person he got to be quiet with, without feeling bad or weird, - to surround them while he thought on great honeymoon destinations. Something better than Paris... it felt too hard to come up with the right place. Not that France seemed to be it, for him, because she was right, - it was kinda cliché. Everyone chose Paris. But Lydia was a wonderful, exquisite woman. She deserved something good. 

"Santorini." He said, out of nowhere, instantly startling the woman who had been crazy worried that she had said something she shouldn't have. They weren't together anymore, they hadn't been for a while, it was understandable if he refused answering that question.  _What was she thinking?_  was the only thing that seemed to be going through her mind until his voice filled the quiet room again, louder than the faint sounds coming from the tv that was still entertaining their kid. "Bali. Or, if you really do insist on Caribbean, we could go to St. Barts."

"Really?" She mumbled, enthusiasm covering her features even if she had avoided showing it. Stepping closer, she leaned her hip against the counter and watched him as he washed his hands slowly. "No snowy, rainy, cold as hell place?"

"We could go to Cappadocia and try those balloon rides." He purposely ignored how hard she tried teasing him, leaning against the counter as well after drying his hands, slipping the dishcloth between his fingers before throwing it over his shoulder while crossing his arms against his chest. "But if you really do insist on some places I would honestly enjoy, we could go to Amsterdam when it's frosty and magical. Or, as you say, cold as hell." Leaning closer, he murmured in her ear. "Or Prague... you know, wherever you want. We could build snowmans or castles in the sand, or just merely make out in our very expensive hotel room."

Her jaw dropped in surprise, showing that she definitely did  **not** expect that answer. Opening and closing her mouth a couple of times, Lydia finally gave herself permission to pull back slightly in order to face him, and she gulped loudly. It surely wasn't easy to make Lydia Martin speechless, so he couldn't help but feel proud at the fact he had managed that with only those words. When her brain was finally capable of forming any good sentence, - one that wouldn't make her look and sound like a complete moron, - Jonathan beat her to it and spoke up before she had the chance to return the sass.

"Can we watch Aladdin?"

"Sure we can, son." He said, not really glancing over at the kid who was rummaging through the perfectly tidied shelves until he finally found the dvd. Three books nearly fell onto his head, but he managed to keep everything in control before any of his parents would panic and go crazy on him. She watched as his lips formed this flawless, - but still annoying, - cocky grin, and for a second there, she wished she could wipe it off his face. _With her mouth._ But that was just wrong, - and she really didn't get an opportunity to do so, considering he quickly rushed out of her personal place before it would get too much for the both of them, and played the dvd before Jonathan would subconsciously pout. It made her smile, though, how he was always so willing and happy to grant their son all his wishes, do everything as he asked and make sure he was happy. For all those years, she wished him to be something, and he lived up to the expectations, - actually, he was even better than she ever imagined him to be. There was no doubt in her mind that Stiles Stilinski was a magnificent father. Of course, as expected, he spoiled the boy more than he truly should, but Jonathan never really took that for granted or used it for his benefit. Actually, it just felt like he was happy to have the man around to be taking advantage of his, - somewhat lack of experience, deep down, - goodness. Although none of them had admitted it out loud yet, they did have a beautiful family. 

 

* * *

 

 

Shortly after the film ended, Jonathan had lunged forward to find another dvd, but his father stopped him in time. It was late, both parents knew that, even if the boy had tried to convince them not to let him go to bed yet.  _'Just a while longer.'_ He had whined, letting a pout form on his lower lip to try and force them in the tempation of letting him stay up a while longer. Little did he know that Lydia wasn't that easily convinced, and Stiles had had years of experience, resisting a familiar pout, to know how to deal with it then. And after a few seconds of reasoning with the kid, the father had finally managed to throw the boy over one of his shoulders and dance around the room, singing ' _Friend like me'_ with a funny voice, - enough to get both mother and son giggling nonstop, - before helping him brushing his teeth and getting into bed. When he finally came back, they agreed on watching another film together, something that didn't involve a crazy genie, before Lydia would leave. Which, in the end, didn't happen since the rain was pouring down madly outside, and he was not willing to let her out and drive in that weather knowing there was always that possibility of her getting into a car crash. She had tried telling him she'd have to be truly unlucky, and miserable for that to happen, but given their lives.. it was a lot better giving her his bed or sharing it with her. Definitely sharing it with her - that was always better, _no_ question.

 _How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days_ was watched by the both of them for what felt like the thousandth time thanks to the banshee, but thankfully, it wasn't  _The Notebook_   **again** , not that he really minded since, even though he wouldn't let himself admit it, he kind of liked it, and after it was over, he wasted other five minutes begging her to stay.

_"Stay..."_

_"No, Stiles -"_

_"Look," He mumbled, taking both her hands in his own while caressing her knuckles with his thumbs. "You can take my bed, I'll sleep here on the couch. Or, you can sleep with Jonathan. Or I'll force Liam to take the couch and you'll sleep on his bed. Just please, don't drive when it's pouring down like that."_

_"I can take a little rain."_

_"I know you can, but there is no need for you to get soaked to the bone when you could just sleep over."_

_"I'm not sure I can deal with all this darkness surrounding me." She teased, loving how she managed to have the exact effect on him she was hoping to have, upon seeing the way he rolled his eyes again._

_"I'm pretty sure that at your place, with the lights out, the darkness is just the same."_

The joke had worked and she agreed on staying over. It helped that she hated being away from their baby boy, even if it was for only a night. And so, at some point, she had him convinced to watch some random cooking show on tv, after, of course, he pouted almost as much as Jonathan did when he had to go to bed, and grumbled for almost half hour, still there was no way he could resist her consistent pleas, even if eventually he had fallen asleep. His head was laid on her lap, as her hands played with dark hair, - something that had soothed him for a while, - his legs were sprawled out on the rest of the couch and one of his arms hung loosely off the sofa while his other one was resting across his own chest.

Everything was great, until he started to toss around slightly, incoherent murmurs falling off his lips in a desperate way as his brows furrowed deeply in distress. His eyes moved rapidly behind his eyelids while a helpeless moan slipped out of his mouth, and even if a part of her, obviously smart, knew it was dangerous to wake him harshly, pull him out of that nightmare, she couldn't help but feel the urge to help him. She had seen that before, she had gone through that with him before, she had tried to relieve him and make him feel better, multiple times before. In a way, she knew exactly what to do. But it still hurt, every time, knowing and feeling how traumatic memories and experiences got the best of him and tormented him in his sleep, - something that should be peaceful, enjoyable, **relaxing**.

 

> _Blood covered his hands as he did his best to put pressure on the gunshot wound, "Lydia, please, stay with me." Images of them trying to run from danger flashed through his mind, reminding him of the reason why he had always thought that, deep down, humans were a lot worse than supernatural/mystical creatures._
> 
> _A shot had been heard, instantly affecting his hearing as he threw himself onto the floor and palped his whole body while scanning it urgently for any wound, any blood. Horror had filled his hollow eyes, haunted by his miserable life, when he came to the realisation that the person that had been shot hadn't been him, but the love of his life. The love of his life who was whimpering in pain, laid out on the cold, hard ground as heavy tears spilled across her cheeks. Her dimples popped out though, the minute Stiles came into her line of sight, - blurred one, honestly. One of his hands was immediately pressed between her breasts, keeping as much pressure as he could, while he slid the pads of his fingers along her soft skin, as some sort of attempt to wipe her tears. It didn't help much, because every time he wiped one, three or four drops slipped across her skin with so much force and speed, he had no time at all to dry them._
> 
> _"Lydia, please -"_
> 
> _"Stiles, .." She choked out, one of her weak, shaky hands covering his bloody one as a loud sob broke free. Who knew that a strong man like that, - who not so long ago was seen as someone fragile, dispensable - could cry, **sob** , like that? "It's okay." Her attempt at sounding reassuring failed when she realised how weak and little her voice truly sounded._
> 
> _"No, no, it's not." The hand that wasn't trying to stop the bleed cupped one of her cheeks, and he cried. "Please don't leave me."_
> 
> _"I-I," She swallowed hardly, "I won't." The sudden movement as she tried shaking her head sent pain through her whole body and she winced._
> 
> _"Good, good -" He agreed, nodding desperately while leaning down to drop a quick, but still soft, kiss on her forehead. "I need you. You can't leave me, because I need you."_
> 
> _"Jona -"_
> 
> _"What?"_
> 
> _"Jonathan." She finally managed to let that out, tears pooling in her eyes as she gripped weakly at the collar of his shirt. "Don't leave him."_
> 
> _"I won't!" He whispered, fingers slipping in strawberry blonde locks. "I could never, -"_
> 
> _"Good, that's good."_
> 
> _"Lydia, -"_
> 
> _"I don't want him to be fatherless, if he has to lose me."_
> 
> _"He won't lose you. We won't lose you!" That had been the longest sentence she had forced herself to say, and it looked like it had been the last one, too. It really did feel like an eternity, though he figured it had been nothing but a couple of seconds, as he stared down at her warm, but still lifeless body, laying in the middle of a deserted road. "Lydia?!"_

Her name came out in a desperate scream, and her eyes widened in concern as she finally brought herself to shake him out of that hell.

"Stiles, - Stiles!" Startled, he nearly threw himself out of the couch when his eyes finally flew open, taking in his surroundings with a confused facial expression until his amber, frightened eyes fell on the female figure.

"Lyd, -" He choked out, part of him still living that nightmare, as he rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. Embarrassment was slowly settling in, and she was quick to notice that, pulling him in her arms in some sort of comfort. At first, it felt like a silly idea, but that quickly slipped out of her mind when his body melted into hers while he let himself be held by her. "What are you doing here?"

"You don't remember?" Seeing the way he frowned when she pulled back, her hands still placed on his shoulders where her fingers began a soothing massage. Of course he didn't remember, it actually made her wonder if he had fully woken up yet. "Stiles, you invited us over for dinner, remember? Jay is asleep, he has been since we watched Aladdin. You also asked me to stay since it's raining?"

"Oh." That didn't sound convincing enough, mostly because he was still struggling to take his mind off those horrible images his mind had played while he slept, - supposedly peacefully. Ah, what a joke.

"You're so vain..." She sang quietly, and realisation hit him instantly as a soft chuckle escaped his lips at the duet of the movie they had been watching before he drifted off to sleep. Wrapping his long fingers around her wrists, he slowly pulled her hands away from his shoulders and kissed both her palms gently. "You should sleep, Stiles. In an actual bed. Perhaps that will help."

"Yeah, I know.." He muttered, fear shooting through him at the mere thought of going to bed alone and being at the mercy of his weak mind that would possibly torture him once again. "Will you, - Nevermind.." Now that was stupid, he told himself as he quickly got up from the couch and brought the woman along with her. "Come on, I'll give you something to sleep in."

"Stiles, what were you going to say?"

"Nothing."

He chose to keep his thoughts to himself as the both of them made their way into his room. Walking around, Stiles finally pulled out two pairs of sweatpants and two shirts for them to sleep in from one of his drawers, handing the clothes to the mother of his child who was watching him intently, in hopes that would be enough to get him to talk. She should have known better, it had never been that easy. It was never that easy, no, considering he chose to avoid her gaze by pointing out at his bathroom in some sort of way to tell her where she could change silently. 

When they were finally ready to sleep, her clothes neatly folded and instantly forgotten in one of his drawers, - she tried not to put too much thought into it, not wanting to sound crazy for seeing something like that as important and meaningful as it felt to her, because sincerely, it was insane, she shouldn't be seeing signs where they weren't any, - they stood on each side of the bed, still refusing to face each other until she gathered enough courage to speak up.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" It wasn't that hard for her to realise that maybe that was what he wanted to ask before, but she still pretended that thought never crossed that mind. Instead, she acted like it had been her own idea, - out of goodness. No, not pity, since that would get him to run away scared.

"Will you?"

"Of course." She replied instantly, a soft smile forming on her lips at how little he sounded. Not to mention that he was still not looking at her.

She had slipped under the covers, while Stiles chose laying over them, - as if that would guarantee them some sort of distance. His hands were safely tucked on the pockets of his sweatpants, that being his own assurance that he wouldn't end up touching her or something like that, that would surely make her feel uncomfortable. They were lying on his bed like that for a while, none of them saying a thing as he stared up at the ceiling while she watched his profile, - his plump lips, the sharp line of his jaw, the growing beard around his mouth and under his chin, his long eyelashes, - everything about that man was beautiful. Anyway, they merely stood still, not saying anything because talking was overrated and it didn't matter how hard she would try getting something out of him, it wouldn't work. But at a certain point, the situation itself, the silence that surrounded them, the unspoken words, were to much to deal with and she sighed loudly, hoping that would get him to talk, - which didn't, - so it was time she did something herself. 

"Stiles." Not much was needed to say, Lydia didn't even need an answer from him, as she merely slipped closer and pulled him to her, instantly wrapping her arms around his shoulders until his head was safely placed between her breasts and one of his arms was curled around her waist tightly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

With a quick nod of her head, she kissed the top of his head and murmured. "Promise."


	10. I know the memories rushing into mind, I want to kiss your scars tonight.

At some point during the night, Stiles had woken up with his head still tucked between Lydia's breasts, both her arms wrapped around his shoulders while one of her hands had also slipped under his shirt, and was currently pressed against one of his shoulder blades. The position the both of them were in was rather comforting, and it nearly killed him having to slowly pull her arms away, carefully not to wake her, and eventually step out of his bed. He had been missing, wanting, that kind of closeness, connection, with her for a very long time, but it didn't feel like the right time to have it. A part of him was already regretting his sudden decision of getting up and heading into the kitchen, but he didn't allow himself to go back just yet. No, instead he poured some water in a glass he had quietly grabbed out of one of the cabinets and leaned against the kitchen counter while taking a long swig from it. The kitchen clock showed it was nearly 3am, and it quickly rushed him to the conclusion that they hadn't been laying in bed for that long. It had felt like ages to him, mostly because those hours of sleep seemed to be the best ones he had in years. All thanks to one certain person he  **couldn't** have. There wasn't any point in fooling himself in believing things would go back to what they once were, considering he didn't really want that either. Being what they were in the past meant Jonathan wouldn't be a part of them, and even if it killed him not having her, there was nothing in the world that would ever make him want to erase his son out of his life.

A quiet groan involuntarily slid out of his half open mouth, the mere thought of knowing he'd still have to go through the rest of the night with her strong presence that had always made him crave for more, though it shouldn't, was tormenting him in every way possible. His eyes had landed on his actually comfortable couch, and he almost considered laying on it and spend the rest of the night there, but she had so graciously offered to stay with him in case he had another nightmare, so for him it felt disrespectful letting her sleep alone when he had accepted her company in the first place.

Well, that was what he told himself, anyway. There was no way he was giving himself permission to admit that the reason why he was so eager to go back to bed, - where the mother of his child, who so happened to be the love of his life, - was because she was still in it. Honestly, he could practically hear his bed screaming, begging for him to get back and stay where he was supposed to be.  _Beds don't scream, or beg, don't be a fool, Mieczyslaw._ Wincing dramatically as he inwardly called himself by his name, he finally placed the empty glass on the sink with a quiet clatter, his head instantly snapping to scan the place around him in order to make sure he hadn't woken up anyone else in the apartment. Then, he finally made his way back to his dark room where a gorgeous strawberry blonde woman slept peacefully in his bed. All of it seemed so platonic, and it had been so long since their relationship was merely platonic. How could he take all of that for granted?

This time, though, he slid under the blankets, because even if her body tightly pressed against his somehow warmed him through the hours they slept in the same bed, after getting up and missing the warmth that radiated off her body urged him to feel her closer. Their clothes should be enough barriers between them, for some reason he believed he didnt need to add up the covers to it.

"Uh, -?"

"Shh, it's just me."

"Stiles?" She mumbled groggily, confusion settling in her mind as she wondered why he was lying next to her until those recent memories of falling asleep with her own arms wrapped around him reminded her of where she was.

"Yes, go back to sleep." He whispered at last, one of his arms sliding around her waist gently until his front was pressed against her back, his knees fitting perfectly behind hers as he spooned her perfectly. Just like old times.

By the time Lydia woke up the morning after, it was thanks to the sunlight that sneaked through the window and pulled her out of her deep sleep, - something she hadn't had in a while. She was secretly cursing Stiles for forgetting to close the blinds when she realised  _something_ was poking her lower back.

Oh.  _oh!_

Her first instinct was to pull away immediately, only to be stopped by a strong arm that was holding her tightly in place, literally against the relaxed body that hadn't made a single move and it led her to believe he was still deep asleep, which had to be a good thing after the previous night's incident, and she had to cover her mouth with one of her palms in order to prevent a chuckle to escape. Deep down, she was loving the safety, comfort of that embrace, especially knowing the person who was providing those secure sensations was no one but Stiles. However, every time she attempted to move only slightly, whether it was to adjust her position so her body was entirely pressed against his or to step out of the bed and literally run away, _something_ brushed against her.

"Stiles," She said in a hushed tone, her cheeks reddening slightly by the whole situation itself. "Stiles!" That jolted him out of his sleep as his eyes flew open and he scanned his surroundings.

"What? Wha-" The huskiness of his voice, - probably from sleep, - was doing things to her and she didn't trust herself to talk.. yet. His arm was still wrapped around her as he propped himself on his other elbow, and he blinked lazily until he was perfectly capable of looking down at her. "Are you okay?"

"Are  _you_?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" The colour covering her pale cheeks gave her away, and he instantly pushed away, the hand that was holding her just a while ago grabbing onto the sheets as he peeked down. Suddenly, he felt this sudden urge of sending himself down onto the floor. Perhaps even hide under the bed. Would that make anything better? "Well, that's embarrasing."

"Good to know I still have some sort of effect on you."

"Oh, don't flatter yourself!" He was pretty sure that by then she wasn't the only person who was blushing furiously. "I was dreaming about Angelina Jolie."

"Right," It was impossible to keep holding back her laughter, so she allowed a soft chuckle to fall off her lips, in hopes he wouldn't feel bad, or - god forbid - feel offended. Turning around in order to be able to fully face him, the doctor watched him as he fell back onto his pillow while a quiet groan found its way out of his lips. Thankfully, her body couldn't betray her and let him know how she really felt upon hearing his hoarse voice, or that rather innocent groan, or, of course, the whole  _morning wood_ thing. "You tell yourself that."

"Can we please not talk about this?" He murmured shamefully, one of his hands coming up to cover his face. Suddenly, her upper body covered his own as she rested her head across his chest, and he had to gulp nervously. At least she had the decency of keeping her lower body away, - far away, - from his. There was no way he was discussing that either, or finding some lame excuse other than the one he had already given her to explain why he was like _that_.  _Today, of all days_ , he thought. "Like, _ever_?"

"Sure." Her voice still held a certain playfulness to it, and that was enough to make him smile. Eventually, she cleared her throat and mumbled. "Is it okay if I shower here?"

"Of course."

"Can I also make chocolate chip pancakes? Jonathan is probably going to be awake soon, and he loves them."

"That sounds great." Stiles mumbled softly, feeling rather content for the fact she was willing to be the one cooking breakfast. Wrapping one of his arms around her shoulders, he figured there was no reason to push her away if she wasn't keeping her distance from him either. "What are the plans for today?"

"You're not heading in to work?"

"I am," He confirmed, "I was only wondering what you were up to for today."

"I'm going to assist on a heart valve repair!" The excitement in her tone definitely wasn't unclear, and that earned a smile from Stiles. It had been a while since he had seen her enthusiasm towards something, and it felt good being able to be a part of her life, and hear about everything. Achievements, victories, even losses.

"Your first?"

"Yes," She mumbled with a bright smile across her face, her head tilting only enough to be able to look up at him who was already staring down at her. "I think you can tell by the enthusiasm. It's beautiful, really. I find the heart undeniably fascinating."

"I'm sure that heart will find you fascinating as well. After all, whoever can't see how fascinating Lydia Martin truly is, has absolutely no idea of what's missing."

"Stiles, -" The doctor let out a soft sigh, the blush that spread across her face being from different reasons. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips slowly as their eyes met, one of her hands grasping tightly on the collar of his shirt as she tried to find the right words to answer him, but he didn't even give her a chance to, figuring it must be hard for her having to accept compliments from the man who once left her. He was surely the source of her insecurities.

"Do you mind if I take a shower first? I'll meet you in the kitchen in a bit. Use whatever you need."

With a quick nod of her head, she finally brought herself to fully pull away from him as she sat on the bed, her feet pushing the blankets away carelessly while she managed to smooth her wild hair at least a bit. He didn't seem to want to move though, which made her realise that maybe his little problem hadn't quite faded yet. That nearly forced a laugh out of her luscious lips, but she figured it'd be cruel, so she merely hopped off the bed and grabbed a hoodie he kept neatly tucked on a chair. Pulling it on, she threw a last glance and a seductive wink over her shoulder while she silently padded out of the room.

"Will you require any kind of help, Mr. Stilinski?"

"I think I can manage, Doctor Martin." He said, rolling his eyes sarcastically.

It took him around half hour to take a quick shower, wear his uniform and head out towards the kitchen. Jonathan was already sitting on one of the stools, his eyes set on the tv that was playing cartoons while he ate his pancakes. Surprising, he thought, how come there wasn't a documentary on instead? Liam, with his head propped on one of his palms, as he lazily ate cereal was the right answer to his question. Amazing how a six year old managed to be a lot more energetic than an adult. If it weren't for Lydia setting a plate full of pancakes and a mug of hot coffee down on the kitchen island for him, he would have teased his roommate about it. 

"Smells great."

"Tastes great too." Liam spoke around a full mouth of cereal, which earned two eye rolls from both Stiles and Lydia. Ducking his gaze, he avoided facing his friends before all the attention turned to him and he'd be intimidated. 

"Then how come you're eating cereal?"

"He already ate his pancakes." Jay talked for the first time that morning as he sipped from his orange juice. "You eat a lot uncle Liam."

"Someday, you will too."

"Let's hope not." The older male muttered, throwing a wink over at his son who giggled in return. He, then, glanced at the woman that was washing her dishes quietly. Stepping closer with the cup cradled in one of his hands, he wrapped his free arm around her waist and pressed his body against hers. "You know I have a machine that does that for you, right?"

"I'm just making time."

"Why don't you go take a shower? I assume you still want to?" The strawberry blonde confirmed by nodding quickly in agreement, but mumbled something incoherent afterwards. With his brows furrowed, he took a long sip from his coffee and swallowed a quiet moan at the fact that she managed to prepare it exactly how he liked it. "What was that?"

"I don't have any underwear."

"Can't you wear the same?" At the negative shake of her head, Stiles' frown grew deeper until he finally understood why. "Did something ruined them, Lydia?"

"Jesus, can you keep it down?"

"Pointless. Super hearing, remember?"

Liam's words broke them out of their bubble, and Stiles found himself grabbing the closest thing to throw it at him, - that being a dishcloth. Thankfully, Lydia didn't seem that upset, seeing she couldn't help but laugh at the whole thing. That didn't mean she was happy that his friend decided to intrude, especially when their conversation was clearly intimate. But well, the beta had always been like that, - even naive, in a way, - so he couldn't really blame him.

"You do have underwear here." He whispered through gritted teeth, a proud smirk forming across his lips.

"What?"

"Wear mine." Her hazel eyes widened in surprise at the offer, and he watched the way her mouth opened and closed a couple of times. Nothing came out though, assuring him that she was clearly speechless and since she didn't have much of a choice, she'd have to indeed wear something that belonged to him until she was able to change into something else, - that was preferably hers. Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, he stepped away from her and turned most of his attention to the pancakes that awaited him. Delicious pancakes that stared up at him, and begged him to be eaten.  _Once again, food can't talk either, mate._ "Guess that solves your problem after all?" He said at last, winking at her much like she did earlier.

 

* * *

 

 

The hospital doors slid open, causing a soft noise that filled the apparently quiet room, and Deputy Stilinski stepped inside, taking nothing but two mere steps forward until he fell weakly on his knees, in the cold ground. One of his hands clutched onto his stomach, his bloody clothes and hands alarming the nurse behind the desk. Melissa. An angel, that's what she was. A pure angel who deserved her own pair of wings, he thought. Not more than 3 or 4 people filled the E.R., and he wondered if he was lucky, or if he was probably dreaming. Maybe he had passed out and hadn't made it to the hospital. 

" _Lydia!_ " The loud, though it seemed nearly faint to him, scream forced his eyes to stay open as he kept pressure on his gunshot wound. Thinking back to the dream he had the previous night almost made him laugh at the irony. Apparently, it was him who was supposed to get shot after all. " _I need some help over here!_ "

A warm, gentle hand pushed his gun out of his left hand and onto the floor, while a group of male nurses rushed towards his sides and helped him up. His eyes were stuck on a familar image though, watching the way she moved around him until he was finally laid out across the gurney. Her hands quickly replaced him, her pressure to be stronger than the one he had been forcing on the wound, and he smiled, - though he was not really sure if his brain had complied and attended his request and managed to force a smile onto his face. The smile that was spread across the strawberry blonde's face was enough of an answer, assuring him that his brain had indeed found a way to pull a weak smile on his mouth. 

"It's so good to see you." He murmured weakly, knowing he was being pushed into the nearest operation room by the way he felt the room moved. Hazel eyes were focused on nothing but a pale face, covered on both sweat and tears, and even if that was urging her to break down and cry, _maybe even scream_ , she found herself smiling. Smile, Lydia, reassure him, don't scare him, that's not what he needs. Treat him like any other patient. But he wasn't any other patient, was he?

"Gunshot to the abdomen." He heard Melissa saying, perhaps filling someone in. Although he attempted to look at whoever had approached him, his eyes were stuck on hazel ones before he slowly found himself closing them. His friend's mother was still talking, and a part of him wished that he could pay attention to whatever was coming out of that mouth, but the only thing he could actually do was feel those warm, soft hands keeping him from bleeding out. That wasn't supposed to be a comforting, reassuring touch. That was Doctor Martin helping a patient, it wasn't Lydia helping the father of her child, someone she loved. But still, he wrapped his long fingers around her wrist and made sure to keep a tight grip around them, not wanting to lose that touch for anything in the world. Not when he was lying in a gurney. 

The minute he was wheeled into an O.R., Lydia was no longer in sight and he realised that the only person that was able to keep him grounded couldn't be with him anymore. The thought of that seemed to hurt more than the wound itself, though he wasn't really sure if he could feel anything at all. He felt.. numb. Like he was barely there.

_"You can't be here, Dr. Martin, he's the father of your child."_

_"Precisely! That's why I should be in there!"_

_"Lydia -"_

_"Nick, let go of me and mind your own business. Dr. Keaton, please, let me be in there."_

_"I can't allow that, I'm sorry. Your emotions may or may not cloud your judgement, and I'm sure you understand that if they do, you might do something that will possibly jeopordise his health."_

_"Can I at least be there until he's out?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Lydia -"_

_"I said let go, Nick!"_

Several different voices barely reached his ears, but upon hearing some of the conversation, Stiles couldn't help but feel proud of his girl, who did everything she could to be there for him. Perhaps, it was Lydia helping someone she loved/the mother of his child after all. A doctor usually doesn't act according to their emotions, right? That had to mean something. A faint touch pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked up at the person who was worriedly staring down at the blood that covered his clothes and part of his arms. A few people worked around them, but he still managed to assure her he'd be okay before the anesthesia would settle in.

"It's okay, -" He husked, his tongue lazily darting out to wet his rather dry lips. "it doesn't hurt."

"That's not good."

"It is," He nodded his head, the movement finally causing him pain. "It's really good to see you, Lydia."

"Stiles..." A smile. His eyes fluttered, and there it was,  **a smile**. The smile he had only for her. 

 

* * *

 

_"Was the bullet still lodged inside?"_

_"No. We did have to remove some fragments, though. His vitals were fine through the surgery, and he's still unconscious but should be awake soon."_

_"Is he really okay?"_

_"Yes, Dr. Martin. He is okay."_

His eyes fluttered open. Faint sounds filled his ears. A blurry image of someone in scrubs asleep on a rather uncomfortable chair next to his bed caught his attention, but the mere moonlight that sneaked through the hospital room's window was enough to weaken his sight and force him to shut his eyes.

Sleep.

That was his only solution. Falling back to sleep. And though most of his brain tried fighting it, it seemed to be pointless. He felt weak. Exhausted. Which was weird, considering he had been unconscious for a bit. Perhaps being unconscious and being operated on still made him tired? It didn't matter, there wasn't even a reason to why he was having all those weird thoughts. The only thing that really did matter at that moment was that he needed sleep.

When he woke up again, the female figure he had seen asleep was now at the foot of his bed, a chart on her hands as she went through every bit of paper. His eyes smiled the smile his lips couldn't form as, this time, he managed to adjust to the same moonlight that filled the room. There was no doubt in his mind that Lydia Martin was the most beautiful woman in the world, - seeing her in her resident scrubs, worriedly biting on her thumbnail while assuring herself he was going to be okay, the moonlight showing off her beautiful form making her look like an angel.

"Lyd -" He rasped through a dry throat, swallowing hardly before trying to speak up again. Nothing else really mattered, honestly, not when her head instantly snapped up to meet his gaze before her brain was able to form any words or work properly until she found her way to his side, a cup of water in one of her hands while she held the straw to his mouth so he could take a sip. "That's cheating."

"What is?"

"Looking at my chart."

"I won't tell, if you don't."

"How's Soph?" The sudden change of subject forced Lydia to frown in worry, unsure of what those words really meant. For a second, she wondered if he really was okay.

"What?"

"The kid, - we, -" Clearing his throat, he quickly brought one of his hands to his neck where he rubbed at gently, the whole movement itself sending pain through his whole body which made him wince. "What's wrong with my throat?"

"It's because of the breathing tube."

"We were called in. A robbery." Again, there was a change of topic in the conversation, but this time she understood why he was making those questions. Truthfully, she had been so worried in knowing how he was or how to help that she hadn't managed to gather enough information of what had truly happened to him. Sheriff Stilinski had filled her in, in some of the details, but there was still a lot she had yet to know. "There was a kid. She was with me when I was shot."

"She's okay." She mumbled without hesitating, remembering that one of the things that the sheriff had told her was that the child got out of it unharmed, thanks to Stiles. "You did good, Stiles."

"It's the job, Lyds." He mumbled in a raspy voice, turning away from her as his eyes slowly slid closed once again. "I did what I had to do. Surely, you know what I mean."

"You still did good."

"I guess."

"How are you?" A part of her knew that pushing him at that moment wasn't the best idea, but she still had to know. It wouldn't take long until the surgeon that had performed surgery on him would walk in and ask her to step out, saying that though she was a doctor there and they had a child together, that didn't mean she was allowed to be with him unless it was during visiting hours. "How is the pain?"

"Nothing I can't handle." He kept speaking in a quiet voice, as he looked up at her again and smiled.

"You scared me." After hours, and hours, of keeping her emotions in check, not allowing herself to break down or show how truly wrecked she felt, Lydia felt like she could let it all out. Maybe it wasn't the right time, but as she found herself gazing down at those kind brown eyes, she had no way to keep it all to herself. That was the man she had a son with, the man that had put his life in danger so many times to protect her, or help her out of dangerous situations, the man that would rather risk his life than knowing she might lose hers. Even if she tried, there was no way for her to hide her real emotions from him. Besides, he had always pleaded her to show him exactly what she felt, always. There was no point in hiding from him when he was clearly the person that best knew her. "I thought you, - I just -"

"Lydia, -"

"No, listen to me." She whispered, one of her hands landing onto his as she gripped tightly on it, but still carefully not to mess with his I.V. "I know our current situation, and I know that we've been drifting apart, bit by bit. It's only understandable, considering you've been building your life all over again and I've been trying to find a way to continue living my own. But our paths will always meet, whether or not Jonathan is involved. You and I have belonged together for too long, and I'm in no way telling you this when you're vulnerable in order to get you to accept to come back to me, I'm only asking you, please, don't do this again. Don't scare me like that again. I get that this is the job, this is what you do, but I need you to please be careful with yourself. Why would you walk in a dangerous situation without a bulletproof vest?"

"I don't know."

"I can't lose you."

"I know that."

"I get that this might happen again," She shrugged her shoulders, wiping at the tears that had dared to spill. There were no signs of anger or disappointment in her tone, she really only looked scared. It made him wonder if there was a chance for them after all, but he figured she had given him another shot of morphine considering he couldn't find a way to form any coherent thought, anything that would make sense. He couldn't even bring himself to talk back, reassure her the way she did when his life was in danger. He had no way to comfort her, and that made him feel useless. "Honestly, I'm not even hoping it won't. You put yourself in danger for others, you're selfless to the point of protecting everyone in harm, whether or not they're innocent. You used to do this even before you had this job. I guess that was one of the things that made me fall in love with you in the first place. I just need you to remind yourself of the fact you're worth saving, and I need you to also take care of yourself when I'm not there. Please, Stiles."

"Okay."

"Promise me."

"I promise." The strawberry blonde nodded in agreement, forcing a soft smile across her lips but he could see right through her. That smile was fake, and held too much pain behind it. Even medicated, he still found a way to know what she felt exactly, not only what she allowed herself to show. "Will you stay? Please? And tell me about your big surgery you had planned for today?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I was observing your surgery."

"I, -" Realisation settled in, and he felt the need to apologise. "I'm so sorry."

"There will be other surgeries, Stiles. I had to make sure I wasn't losing you."

"Does that mean you'll still stay?"

"Yes." Lydia agreed, getting ready to sit down on that same chair before she felt a hand tugging one of her own.

"I meant with me, on the bed."

"Stiles, you -"

"I know. I was shot, I just got out of surgery, I need to be careful. But, please? We can manage."

"Okay."

By the time he woke up again, it was because of a slight squeak of horror that escaped someone's, - he assumed it was his son, - lips. Not long after that, small knees landed on the bed next to him, as his eyes opened rapidly to glance up at the young man that stared intently at his dressing after tugging his clothes up. He could hear Lydia scolding their son for being so curious and reckless, considering he was clearly still healing and those sudden movements could hurt him even more. A sorrowful expression took over his child's features, and his lips curled in a slight grin as he nodded reassuringly while taking one of those small hands into his own.

"How are you doing, champ?"

"Does it hurt?" Straight to the point, just like his mother.

"Only a little."

"And if I poke it?"

"It might hurt even more." Looking at that cheeky smile that appeared across Jay's face, Stiles couldn't stop his smile from widening either. There weren't many people that could brighten his day, but Lydia and their son were certaintly two of them. Trying to avoid the strong pain that nearly made him want to scream, he kept the same smile upon his face while observing the kid. "Were you planning on poking it?"

"Not really. Mom would probably be mad."

"Yeah, I think so too." A much stronger, definitely male, hand covered one of his and he looked up at the young, blonde man that stood by the other side of the hospital bed he was lying in. Glancing down at the veins that darkened slightly, he released a soft sigh of relief at the fact that pain slowly began to fade away. His first instinct was to look up at Liam again and mouth him a 'thank you', before returning his attention to his son. "Shouldn't you be at school?"

"I think that my dad being shot is a good reason to skip school." He shrugged innocently, his hazel eyes still set on the dressing. "Also what kind of name is Mieczyslaw?" The beta that had been holding a grasp on his hand in order to relieve his pain let out a surprised gasp, while Lydia released a loud, joyful laugh. He was pretty sure his expression was of pure shock, but upon seeing the way Jonathan stared down at him curiously, he found himself laughing softly too.

"Were you peeking through my chart?"

"Sure, that's the good thing of having a father in the hospital. You get to see the chart."

 

* * *

 

 

Two weeks. Two weeks and he was released, finally allowed to go home. That was more than a relief, it nearly felt like heaven. Those last weeks had been hell, not that he didn't appreciate the fact that Lydia was  _always_ there, never leaving his side, coming up with ridiculous games in order to keep him entertained. Actually, it was safe to say that he was happy to have her company, while Jonathan wasn't there to either play chess or cards. Sometimes, they'd even spend hours doing his homework, - hours, yes, considering they'd both get bored quite fast and would rather watch any sports game on tv instead. Anyway, she was still there when their kid wasn't. At first, talking about everything and nothing at all seemed to be their first option, until she began reading him several newspapers, which quickly turned into medical journals. If she hadn't been the only thing to keep him sane during the time he was there, - if she hadn't been the one who literally held him whenever the pain would be too much and he felt like breaking everything in that particular hospital room, - he would have teased her about how boring those journals were. But they weren't, not at all. They had allowed him to meet a part of Lydia Martin he never thought he'd get a chance to meet, and he was oddly thankful for that.

Now, being home after two weeks of having her presence at all times was weird. He had to get to his apartment on his own, seeing Jay was at school and she also had to catch up on her work. Well, he couldn't really blame her for choosing to stay at the hospital, since he was the one telling her to. They had spent almost half hour arguing about how reckless it was letting him leave the hospital so early, only to go home alone. But after telling her, time and time again, that he would be okay, promising he'd take his meds when he had to, he wouldn't make any efforts or push himself into doing something stupid, she finally agreed on letting him go. Not without giving him an awkward pat on the shoulder when they clearly both wanted a hug.

None of that mattered. He was finally home, he was looking forward to sleep on an actual comfortable bed, in his wonderful new apartment. That was all that mattered to him. And he was willing to keep his promises, not wanting Lydia to think she couldn't trust him. He didn't think he'd be without her for that long either, considering she had assured him she'd come over as soon as it was possible. He didn't admit he was looking forward to it either, wanting nothing more than to have that woman taking care of him whether he was on an hospital bed or not. 

So, as he stood on the kitchen, faint giggles, and should he say unfamiliar, and female ones, coming from Liam's room, he couldn't help but think it was good to be home. Even if his roommate was a perv.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles had been spending most of his time in his room, due to the pain that would come and go. The painkillers that were prescribed were helping, but still not enough. Facing Liam and his new girlfriend surely wouldn't help much either. For a minute there, he wished he could allow himself to be weak, curl up in a ball and die, - and not because of the pain. No, it had been almost a full day and Lydia still hadn't come over. He felt ridiculous for missing her like that, but after spending two weeks of seeing her every day, of having her there whenever he needed her, it was really hard having to live without her.

His phone sat on his bedside table and he considered calling her a couple of times, but every time he dialed her number, he reminded himself of the fact he had been the reason why she barely worked for the past days, so it was selfish stealing her from it again. No, he could wait.

When he finally stepped out of the room, he noticed that Liam was locked in his room with his friend. That was a relief, he probably looked like crap and there was no way he was up to making some ridiculous small talk not to look like a crazy person. Slowly pulling out the orange juice from the fridge, Stiles poured some in a glass when the bell rang. He hadn't fully processed it until it rang a second time, and by the time he was finally up to make his way towards the door, a blonde woman stepped out of his roommate's room and he was momentarily distracted. A gray bedsheet was wrapped around her slim body, and it was definitely taking a lot of self-control not to wonder how she might look without it covering every bit of skin. How did Liam manage to find someone like that? He was a dork!

The click of the door being opened snapped him out of his haze as he held the glass of cold juice in his hand, strawberry blonde hair coming into view which instantly made him smile. Lydia came to visit, finally.

"Oh, hi."

"Who are you?" Lydia replied instantly, taking in the whole sight as she scanned the poor girl's body up and down.

"I'm Elena!" The still unfamiliar woman said in a rather perky tone, literally causing him to wince, while she held out one of her hands for the doctor to shake. "Who are you?"

"That's none of your business. You know, I'm not sure that sexual activities are a good idea after someone being shot." She said, stepping inside without anyone's permission, really, as she managed to shove the blonde aside  _gently_. "Are you taking advantage of his vulnerability, is it?" For some reason, she still hadn't seen him standing there, watching the both of them. Yet he didn't let himself say anything just yet either, instead he simply leaned against the nearest wall and sipped quietly from his drink.

"Liam got shot?"

"Liam?!"

"Hello." He said, finally. It didn't take long to realise that Lydia was blushing furiously, and though he was clearly amused and having too much fun with the whole situation itself, he decided to put her out of her misery. "Liam didn't get shot, Elena. It's all a misunderstanding. You may head back to his room, I'll take care of it."

Both of them watched the blonde rushing out of the room, clearly noticing that she was suddenly aware of what was happening and of what she was truly wearing, which certaintly wasn't appropriate to open the door for guests. When they were finally alone, Stiles glanced over at the woman who, for some reason, found the floor rather interesting all of a sudden. He almost laughed at the scene before him, but thinking it would be cruel and unfair to the doctor, he settled for a smile while approaching her quietly.

"You thought I was sleeping with her?"

"It's none of my business, I'm sorry." She tried to brush it off, wanting to quiet her insecurities but every attempt she had at it was even more unsuccessful than the last.

"I wouldn't have asked you to come over, or ask you for help if I was seeing someone else, Lydia."

"I know."

"I want your company, your help, _you_ , okay?"

"Okay." She nodded her head in agreement, the corners of her mouth turning upwards in a real smile for the first time. Watching him heading back into the kitchen, she followed him quietly after shrugging off her jacket and leaving her purse behind. She couldn't help but notice his discomfort, but decided not to say anything about it. The last thing he needed was someone controlling him, she was sure of that. Besides, lately it felt like the more she tried to make him talk, the more he'd shut her out and she'd hate to go back to square one.

"How was work?"

"It was fine."

"Will you help me with my dressing?"

That request caught her off guard, so she found herself not being able to speak for a few seconds. Instead, they merely stared at each other while she wondered what that meant. Was he really willing to let her in after trying to keep some distance between the both of them? Distance that assured her that she was allowed to be around, but surely didn't have permission to have an opinion on his medical treatment. It would only drive them both nuts if she planned on being his doctor, instead of being his friend. Still, if he was asking, it was probably because he needed help. He had been given permission to change the dressing on his own, in order to save a trip to the hospital. However, that did not mean he was going to be comfortable with doing it during the first days. It had already been hard for him seeing someone else doing it, doing it himself had to be harder. So, after nodding as some sort of response, she silently followed him into his bathroom and helped him removing his shirt before slipping some gloves on and doing what he had requested, carefully to keep it clean and dry.

"Thank you." Stiles mumbled shyly while putting his shirt back on. He had been avoiding looking at her the whole time, but he could certainly hear the water running as she washed her hands after putting everything back where it belonged.

"Of course."

"No, -" He quickly took one of her hands into his own, and gave it a firm squeeze. "You've been here for me all the time, even when I'm a pain in the ass and everything that comes out of my mouth is hurtful. No, I don't mean it, I've been in pain and locked up in the same place for too long. But you're still here, so really, thank you."

"That's what family is for, right?"

"Yeah, I guess." He shrugged, squeezing his eyes shut as soon as her other hand cupped one of his cheeks lovingly. "Will you stay? Please? We can pick up Jonathan from school, and then you'd just spend the night here."

"If that's what you want."

"It is."

Silence surrounded them for a bit again as they finally exited the bathroom and took a seat on his bed again. That quietness felt right, so even if both their minds were filled with all sorts of thoughts, they weren't concerned about being silent or not. Still, she decided to break it again.

"She's pretty." That sounded like some sort of permission from her, so he could know that if he wanted to find someone, he was more than allowed. He couldn't have that though, that thought never crossing his mind until those words reached his ears.

"Yeah," He agreed, as one of his hands covered hers. "But you're prettier."


	11. you’ve begun to feel like home

Stiles had just helped his kid with his nightly routine, before putting him to bed. Ever since Jonathan had joined the soccer team, he had been utterly exhausted, not even a random documentary on tv or any other chess game with his father was enough to keep him awake a while longer. At first, the officer had innocently tried to keep him up a while longer by nearly begging him not to let sleep overtake him, only to realise eventually that the reason behind that exhaustion was a tough, long soccer practice, after a school day. When he finally realised what was going on, as soon as he noticed the way those big, innocent hazel eyes slowly dropped shut, he'd quickly scoop the boy up in his arms and carry him in a tight embrace into his bathroom in order to help him into his pyjamas and brush his teeth. Only then, he'd tuck him in and sit with him until he was 100% sure his son was deep asleep and there was no chance of him waking up all of a sudden again. Honestly, even if he wished they'd spent a little bit more time together, he was oddly happy by observing the rise and fall of his small chest as he took steady breaths while sleeping, the way his eyes moved rapidly behind his lids letting him know he was dreaming. 

And that was exactly what he had just done, before heading into the kitchen and cleaning up what had been used for dinner. It was a Friday night, nearly 10 pm and his son was asleep in his room while his roommate was sitting on the sofa, watching something on tv. No matter how domestic that whole evening felt, he couldn't help but be proud of the sudden, inexplicable turn his life had taken. As it turned out, not everything about an ordinary life was bad. Quite the opposite, he could affirm, for the first time in many years, that he was genuinely happy.

His phone rang all of the sudden in the leaving room, its sound filling the silent apartment, apart from the faint sounds coming from the tv, and he rushed to the other room in order to stop the source of all that noise before the child would wake up. Not that it would matter, seeing Jay would just fall right back to sleep, but being bothered out of it wasn't that nice, so he was really hoping to get to it before that would happen. As he finally approached the coffee table, he quickly grabbed the device and accepted the call before pressing it gently into one of his ears. His friend, who had been relaxing for the night, quickly sat up straighter and glanced up at the older male who spoke into the phone quietly.

"Hello?"

_"Stiles! How busy are you?"_

"Not much -" He started, his eyes wandering across the whole room as he took in the tidied up apartment. Grasping onto the dishcloth that was lying across one of his broad shoulders, he cleared his throat and continued. "Why? Is everything okay, Melissa?" Million scenarios ran through his mind as he thought of the worst, not being able to stop himself from feeling rather ridiculous when he realised that he had been forced to take some time off work after being shot and while he was lazily cleaning up the kitchen, his father was out there on the field and the mother of his child was working hardly as ever. Something about having to stay at home, not doing something actually useful, made him feel weird. Especially if anyone he loved was in danger.

_"Do you have someone that can stay with Jonathan for a while?"_

"I, uh -" His eyes unconsciously landed on the blonde that nodded almost immediately on the couch, assuring him that if he had to leave he was more than welcomed to, since he'd stay with the kid. It wasn't that he didn't trust Liam, because he did, - more than anything, he just didn't say it often - he just didn't want his son to wake up all of a sudden to find out he wasn't in the house, which could probably lead him to panic a little. Jonathan hadn't been okay with his father being shot, and though he was around most of the time, when he wasn't, he made himself think of the worst things that could happen to him. The minute he noticed how the younger man sat up on the sofa he had been lazily relaxing on, he knew that his friend would be more than willing to run out there and help with something, if necessary. When he accepted babysitting a kid who was already asleep, Stiles wasn't really surprised. Thankful, however, he was. He knew that the male didn't have to do that, when he was clearly almost as worried as he was and a part of him surely wished he could leave and find out what was happening too. "I do, Liam is here. Why? What's wrong?" He had finally forced himself to talk, his tone clearly impatient when he realised that his best friend's mother seemed to prevent herself from telling what was really going on. 

 _"It's Lydia."_ Letting out a shuddered breath, his amber eyes fluttered shut as he, once again, began thinking about the worst. He didn't seem to be the only person doing it though, considering Liam was already furrowing his brows in concern and one of his knees was bouncing nervously, awaiting an actual answer. If the situation was any different, he would have yelled at him, telling him to quit listening to other people's conversations. But he couldn't do that then, not when the other boy wanted nothing more than to help, - and to be fair, it was beginning to look like he was going to need help!  _"She had a surgery, and I assume things didn't work out perfectly as expected. I haven't seen her since she was done with it, and she has locked herself on one of the on-call rooms ever since. She has been paged a couple of times, and they're all unanswered. I know, it's a lot to ask, and it's late, but could you please come to the hospital? I fear only you will be able to snap her out of whatever is going on."_

That seemed to be enough of an answer, since he didn't even hesitate in rushing around the room to grab his keys and black jacket after placing the dishcloth over the kitchen counter. Liam had also nodded in encouragement too, letting him know that if anything else was needed, he would be right there. Meanwhile, the action film that had been long forgotten seemed to be the source of his attention once again, since the only thing he needed to do was to babysit the small boy sleeping in one of the rooms. Whatever was going on was none of his business, and it didn't look like he could help that much anyway. He wasn't  **Stiles**.

"I'm on my way."

By the time he closed the front door behind him, carefully not to make too much noise, Stiles had already his jacket and some random sneakers on while he locked his phone and shoved it inside one of his jeans' pockets. Squeezing his eyes shut, he stood in the empty hallway for a while longer as he leaned against the nearest wall and rubbed his eyes anxiously. He was doing his very best not to put too much thought into the whole thing, but truth is, Melissa  _had_ just called him, warning him that the love of his life needed help and the only person that could do something for her was  **him** , no one else. It obviously hit him like a ton of bricks when he realised the weight of the whole situation, as he found himself finally seeing that perhaps that woman needed him almost as much as he needed her, and even though she hadn't been the one reaching out to him, if everyone else had noticed all that alone, so could she, - so could he. 

Not wasting any more time, he rushed down to the parking lot and quickly got in his blue jeep.

 _Lydia needs me_ , he thought.

 

* * *

 

After he finally parked his jeep properly on the parking lot by the entrance, - his first attempt of stopping the car being in the middle of the road by the emergency room, leading him to believe that wasn't actually a smart choice, - with the reassurance that it wouldn't bother anyone else, Stiles finally exited it and shut the driver's door loudly before rushing inside. The only thing that seemed to matter to him at that right moment was seeing the strawberry blonde, hence the reason why he hadn't even given a second thought to the whole leaving a car in the middle of the road thing. Someone needed him, and he was so busy wanting to get to that person that nothing else around him seemed to take any significance in his point of view.

Soft, kind brown eyes met his lighter ones behind the nurse station, and a soft sigh of relief escaped his lips upon seeing at least one of the people he had been looking for. Thankfully, Melissa didn't dare wasting any of his time by letting him know she was inside one of the on-call rooms on the 3rd floor. With a rapid nod of his head, he quickly headed towards the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator to reach the floor he was currently in and leave the woman he loved on her own for even a longer time. Taking large, quick steps, he was on the 3rd floor in no time, and luckily, - yes, luckily, because taking his life in consideration, he was a rather lucky man at that particular moment, - the first door he knocked on and opened kept a beautiful strawberry blonde doctor inside. Without a single noise, he stepped in as well and locked the door behind him, so no one would dare bothering them.

Lydia was sitting on one of the bunkbeds, her head resting on the heels of her hands as she propped her elbows on her knees in the meantime. Her perfectly manicured fingers were deeply buried in her smooth locks, and the only sounds that filled the quiet room was her wrecked sobs and uneven breathing. Other than the two of them, the room was empty, which came as a complete relief to the man. Not that he thought that the girl would head into an occupied room when she clearly needed some privacy, but considering there were plenty of people in that hospital's staff, it wouldn't surprise him that the on-call rooms would be filled with employees that needed sleep, or some sort of rest. Thankfully, that wasn't the case and they had an empty room at their mercy.

Instead of wasting more time observing the woman who was obviously in distraught, he quietly moved closer in large steps, instantly sitting down on the uncomfortable bed beside her as one of his arms found its way around her small shoulders. Her body quickly collapsed onto his, as she allowed herself to cry even more while her head rested comfortably against his chest and one of her hands gripped tightly onto the collar of his dark blue jumper. He didn't let himself speak just yet, thinking that once she was ready to talk about it, she would, pressuring her wouldn't do them any help. So, when her tears dampened his shirt while her body shook slightly against his, he simply played with her hair and tightened his grip around her gently, wanting to comfort her in any way.

"H-He, he, I-I, he -"

"Shh, it's okay sweetie, you don't have to tell me yet." Seeing her like that made him feel just as upset, and though he wanted to know  _everything_ , he couldn't bring himself to force her to talk when it clearly wasn't the time. She was still distressed, her sobs, - that got louder by the second, - and whimpers being the only thing filling the quietness around them. Perhaps if she managed to cry all tears there were to cry, that would help her in some way. He had an idea of what might have happened, and her reactions to it were nothing but natural. A part of him also knew that it wouldn't take her long until she let herself talk about it, but he also knew that forcing her into it at that right moment would only get her even worse, and he was already scared she wouldn't be able to control her breathing, eventually having a panic attack. Stiles Stilinski knew exactly how messed up those panic attacks could be.

"He was only ten."

"It's alright honey, just breathe. Come on, deep breaths." Silence surrounded them once more, her breathing wasn't exactly steady yet, but it wasn't as ragged as before. At some point during that whole thing, she had manage to straddle his lap and was currently with her face tucked in the side of his neck. If they were under different circumstances, he would have been quite nervous by then. It had been a while, - long one at that, - since the last time they were that close to each other without letting the awkwardness settle between them. Those quiet, intimate moments wouldn't last more than 30 seconds between them for the past days, the only time when they did last being when they were both asleep in the same bed. After all, you can't really control what you do in your sleep, right? But at that moment, letting her cuddle closer into him didn't feel as embarrassing as it possibly would for the past few weeks she had been staying with him. Not once did she leave his side, after he got shot, so he wasn't about to panic and leave hers. Lydia Martin needed him.

"He was fine, and th-then su-suddenly," A choked sob broke free and he slowly pulled back, only enough to be able to look at her though. And when he noticed the red nose, and puffy eyes, he couldn't help but think how truly gorgeous she looked. It wasn't the right moment to tell her that though, he would be too insensitive if he'd stop her ramble by telling her  _you look beautiful when you cry_. She'd probably never trust him again. Wiping her tears carefully, he glanced up into hazel eyes and swallowed hard. "He wasn't okay anymore."

"Shh, come here baby." Pulling her closer, he nearly breathed out in relief at the fact she let herself being embraced once more, even if her body slumped at the recent memories that were tormenting her mind. Lydia was about to comment about the amount of pet names that had slipped out of his lips in such a short time, but she decided against it, mostly because she feared he'd stop if she said something. Not that his presence alone wasn't enough to comfort her, and calm her, because it did. Stiles Stilinski had a way to make things better for her that no one else had, and even if she really didn't know how he was there, - what brought him there, - she thanked whoever did that, whoever took the time to alert him. Because the minute he stepped in that room, things slowly began to get so much better for her. It obviously wasn't a quick process, it was taking her a while to feel completely well again, but knowing he was there,  **holding her** , changed things in ways she couldn't put into words. She wished she could, though, because a part of her wanted to thank him for it, all of it.

"I-I," The doctor stopped for a few seconds, pushing herself backwards a little so she could take a deep, steady breath, and calm her racing heart. The events that had taken control of her night were surely delicate, for some reason she felt like the father of her child already knew that, but she still wanted to be the one voicing her insecurities and fears, - her pain, that was torturing her in deeper ways she always thought that weren't possible. Her skilled, small fingers toyed with the collar of his dark jacket, as she observed her thumbs playing with the zipper instead of looking up into those kind, brown eyes, that always got her to say more than she really wanted to. It was easy to open up to Stiles, he had always been the kind of person that would literally forget his own needs to attend someone else's instead. And she loved that about him, so much. "I looked at him," She started quietly, tears that had pooled in her eyes and were threatening to spill, finally ran down her beautiful, pale cheeks as she bit hardly on her lower lip. "And all I could see was Jonathan. And I kept thinking about how you can't really protect everyone, including your own children, and it was killing me thinking that -" His grip around her waist tightened, encouraging her to continue though he knew where she was heading. "That maybe someone else wouldn't be able to help him either."

"Oh, sweetheart."

"I-I, I just -"

"Lydia," His slightly larger hands cupped her cheeks, and his thumbs slid across her skin under her eyes, drying those drops of sadness of hers that kept falling down. "He asked me to cook spaghetti again tonight. Though, to be fair, it was carbonara this time. He went on about the way he and his friend were getting better at soccer, nearly becoming the two best players of the team. After making sure Liam and I knew how truly good he was, he nearly passed out on the kitchen island." A choked laugh found its way out of her lips, as if thinking about all that was enough to calm her nerves at least a bit. She knew that their son was okay, otherwise Stiles would have told her differently already. But that didn't mean it was easy to quiet her uneasy mind. Not after the terrible, unfair day she had, anyway. "He made sure we'd take him out to the movies tomorrow though, it was the only way I got him to finish his dinner without spouting off different facts on how turtles live for so many years."

"He really knows how to get people to do things for him."

"Yeah, I guess he figured that the puppy dog eyes no longer work on me or anyone else."

The only response he got was a soft, slightly happier smile, from Lydia as she slowly lied down across the small bed and pulled him along with her until her body was flush against his. Pressing her back closer into his front, she finally pulled the covers over the both of them, and though he wondered what was the point of all that, he didn't let himself ask, not wanting to ruin the moment or the chance he got, right there, to hold her for a while longer.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"You know, being here for me." There were longer breaks between her sobs, assuring him that she was a lot calmer and he couldn't stop the soft grin that took over his features. 

"Always."

Sliding one of his strong arms around her waist, he held her closer in a tight embrace while burying his face in strawberry blonde locks, breathing in her sweet scent that always made him smile. He'd often wonder if she still had the same perfume that drove him crazy, when he was away. Most of those times, he found himself wanting to come back only to find out, but each time he remembered the kind of pain they were once going through and stopped himself from doing something crazy. Back then, he wasn't quite aware of the fact that the craziest thing he was doing was keeping himself away from his  _family_. Thankfully, he eventually forced himself to see things as they truly were, and decided to come back - it had been the best decision he had made in a very long time. It brought him to where he was at that right moment, and he couldn't be any happier. He had everything he needed.

"So, is it true?"

"What?" Lydia was plainly startled, maybe because she was about to drift off to sleep when his voice filled the room again.

"Do you guys really have sex on on-call rooms during breaks between surgeries?"

"Wanna find out?" A soft laugh escaped his plump lips at her question, when she wasn't even able to conceal the exhaustion from her tone. Pressing a soft kiss on the back of her neck, he squeezed her gently once and let sleep overtake him, too.

 

* * *

 

 

"Ugh -" A muffled groan was heard from the doctor who lazily turned in Stiles' embrace until they faced each other. He was still deep asleep, surprisingly so. Just a few seconds before, a nurse had knocked briskly on the door after attempting to open it a couple of times, only to realise it was locked which meant it was occupied. The noise had brought Lydia out of her dreamless slumber, and by the faint light that sneaked in the room, she quickly realised it was possibly around 6, nearly 7 am. Though she hadn't had many hours of sleep, it had surely been a great rest. Not being able to hold back a fondle smile, she scanned every inch of the male's face, appreciating his beauty, - his youth, - and how relaxed he seemed to be in his sleep. It was in this vulnerable, but still calm, state that she got to see who Stiles Stilinski truly was. And god, was he handsome. Her fingertips skimmed lightly across the stubble on his chin, eventually touching soft, wet lips in a tender caress.

"Mm."

"This has to go." She mumbled, watching in awe as he forced his eyes opened but quickly blinked lazily at the faint light that still, somehow, threatened to blind him.

"What?"

"The beard."

"I don't think you can really call it a beard." He teased, his eyes tightly closed once more as he did his best to avoid the sunlight that creeped in. When he drove to the hospital, it wasn't with the intention of spending the night in a crappy bunkbed. But it's not like he could leave the woman he loved, right? Not when she silently invited him to spend the night with her. 

"It still has to go."

"Uh -" One of her perfectly shaped eyebrows arched in curiosity at his hum, and she smiled softly. Whatever that was about to escape his lips wasn't going to be good, and it was already taking her so much effort not to let his husky voice from sleep affect her. "What makes you think you have a saying in it?"

"You and I both know I do."

"I will have to ask for something in return." He hadn't allowed himself to enjoy the sight of her in her scrubs the previous night, considering she was going through something terrible. However, as he slowly opened his eyes again, a mix of love and amusement filling them, he gazed into her hazel ones before lifting the covers gently so he could take a proper peek at her outfit. 

"And what is that?"

"Will you wear that more often?"

"You mean, for you?" At that point, the both of them were already holding back their laughter, and it was a surprise that no one else had tried coming in again. There was no way they could stay in there any longer without people thinking something was going on, but none of them seemed to be in a rush to head out.

"Of course."

"Deal."

Her leg slipped over both of his as she snuggled closer against his side, one of her arms wrapping around his torso as she shut her eyes again. That was her way of giving him a bit more time to wake up fully, - and of course, in a way, to enjoy their limited time together, though nothing would ever get her to admit that out loud - and he found himself loving her for it. Pressing his fingertips against his eyelids, he rubbed them lazily as if that would erase every bit of sleep he still had in him. 

He was literally split in two, wanting to head back home and check on their kid - wanting some kind of reassurance that Liam had indeed been both a good friend and an even better babysitter, and Jay was still in one piece - while the other half of him wanted to just lay there, with her, for the rest of the day. He figured that once he'd be brought out of their comfort, nothing like it would happen anytime soon. There wasn't enough courage in him to seek out for her, and he could see she was absolutely drained to even try connecting with him in some kind of way. They'd just go back to being awkward, when there was clearly so much to say.

"Maybe I should go home tonight." There it was, her first attempt to pull them out of their bubble.

"Of course." He gulped nervously, "May I ask why?"

"I haven't been there for a while. There's so much laundry to do, and I figured you could use some time alone." No, he didn't need that  _at all_. Actually, the only thing he needed was for his family to be around him, just like they were meant to be. And though he really wanted to disagree and tell her they'd be so much better together, he thought that respecting her decision was the best thing he could do. That was what he had been telling himself when she had given him a second chance at being around. "Is that okay?"

"Sure. Just come over for breakfast first?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." Subconsciously, one of her hands pulled back the blankets before she grabbed the hem of his jumper until she slid it up, uncovering the gunshot wound that was almost completely healed. Releasing a sharp breath, like she always did, she slid two of her fingers across the scar tissue, massaging the puckered skin gently without really asking him for permission. It was practically pointless, seeing she'd ask, he'd say no, and she'd do it anyway.

"Lydia -"

"Does it hurt?" She asked quickly, not missing the soft gasp that slid out of his mouth as she kept her fingers on his abdomen.

"Sometimes..."

"Why won't you just tell me?" Finally, her eyes darted up to look into his and he genuinely smiled, - not like the other times he'd force a smile and tell her everything was okay, there was no reason to worry.

"Because you already know." Nodding her head in agreement - she really did know - Lydia massaged his scarred skin for a while longer, avoiding the urge of making a comment about the relief that shot through him. He took care of her, it was only fair if she returned the favour.

 

* * *

 

 

"Coming!" Came the soft voice from the other side of the door, after the loud bell rang twice. Glancing down at his phone, he noticed it was close to 9 pm, and though he had already had dinner, he found himself wondering if Lydia and their son had, too. At some point, he realised there wasn't much point in putting any thought into that, considering he was already there and he didn't plan on leaving again. Not after the pep talk he gave himself throughout the whole day to come over. Not after trying to convince himself that doing that wouldn't be a bad thing.

Shortly after breakfast, Jonathan had left with his mother with the promise of going to the movies the following day. None of them had tried talking the doctor into going out after her long shifts, since she clearly needed proper rest. He was tempted to ask her to stay over only for another day, but every time he tried bringing it up, he noticed how she either avoided his gaze or distracted herself with their child instead of paying attention to him. It was killing him, not knowing why she was acting like that. Was it because they spent the night together, at the hospital? They hadn't done anything - _at all_ \- and that wasn't the first night they were together, especially in the last weeks, she was always there. Maybe it was because she couldn't find strength in herself to say no? So she avoided the question at all costs?

That didn't matter. If she didn't want to stay, he'd just come over to her house instead. Unless she was trying to have some time to herself? Again, it didn't matter. For once, he just wanted to be the one who'd be there. The one that would come to her. The one that  _wouldn't_ stay behind. That wouldn't avoid awkward situations only because he wouldn't know what to do next.

He just wanted to see her.

"Stiles -" Her tone was of clear surprise as soon as the door was pushed open in a swift motion, presenting Stiles on the other side of it. Both his arms were pressing against either side of the doorframe, his weight leaning on them as he literally stared at the strawberry blonde and for a while, he didn't look away. He just stared. Was it creepy? Maybe. Yet that didn't matter much to him - she just looked  _so_ beautiful. Had she always looked that beautiful? "What are you -"

She was stopped mid-sentence as he launched himself forward and crashed his lips into hers. Two days before - only two days, nothing more - he wouldn't have even thought of doing that, and yet, there they were. His arms had already found their way around her waist to pull her closer against him and her hands slipped around his neck, stopping at his nape where she pulled on dark, smooth hair gently. 

The minute their lips touched, and a slow, loving kiss began, he wondered why hadn't he already done that before. Well, there was the fact he had been a complete jerk. Also the fact he wanted to focus on knowing his child, before knowing the woman he once, and obviously still, loved. And, of course Nic-holas. None of that seemed to matter much at that particular moment though, - to him, or her, honestly. He had been the one starting the kissing, but she hadn't stopped him either, so that had to mean something, right? Hopefully, it did mean something, because if his attempt at getting closer failed - if he had been reading the signs all wrong - he wouldn't know how to go back.

Slipping his tongue through her parted lips, she gladly granted it access while pressing her chest against his own, both of them completely oblivious of the kid that was currently in the living room, watching tv and apparently talking alone - yeah, since no one else was really paying attention. The kiss grew deeper, and somewhat hotter, and it took all control in her to stop it before it was too late.

"Jonathan!"

"Right -" He murmured after hearing her, feeling really happy that she hadn't slipped out of his grip. Instead, she just merely stayed in his embrace, wrapping her arms fully around his neck in the meantime. ".. sorry." He continued - at least he had the decency of being in shame.

"Let's try this again," She cleared her throat, avoiding the urge to kiss him again. "What are you doing here?"

"I was wondering if  _I_ could stay over this time?" A mischievous grin spread across her face upon hearing his question, and he was left confused until she finally spoke up again.

"Does Stiles Stilinski want to have a slumber party? Or does he already miss me using his whole bed?" She teased, scratching his scalp gently. "Well then, do come in."


	12. settle down with me, and I’ll be your safety, you’ll be my lady

"Oh, shoot!" Said the quiet, _not so quiet_ , voice, pulling Stiles out of his deep, relaxing slumber. The normally perky voice turned into a rather sorrowful one as expressful hazel eyes focused on a small screen, causing the older man to wonder what had happened and what was so important that had to wake him from just another great night of sleep he was having - lately, terrifying nightmares/night terrors rarely ever happened and even when they did, there was this petite strawberry blonde lying next to him and soothing him back to sleep after wiping sweat from his forehead and kissing it gently. The question was answered the minute his light brown eyes opened to welcome the shiny sunlight that peeked in through one of the bedroom windows, and his gaze fell upon his son who had his brows furrowed and was clicking madly on the buttons of his ps vita.

Sore loser, he thought, but chose to keep that to himself as he rolled on his back on the bed before sitting up against the headboard quietly. Jonathan was sitting under the covers right next to him, but was so deep in the game that didn't even realise his father was finally awake and staring at him, patiently waiting for any kind of reaction or response that would assure him that waking up out of nowhere was for a good reason.

"Not again!"

"Jay?" Came the sleepy, husky voice, forcing the boy out of his distraction to look over at him.

"Sorry if I woke you." Stiles wasn't strong enough to confirm that theory, not wanting to be the one to make the small child feel even more disappointed than what he already was. Still, one of his brows rose teasingly, clearly showing him that he had indeed done that but it was okay. "I hadn't realised you were sleeping over."

Uh-oh.

"In mom's bed."

"I, Jonathan -" Jay roared with laughter, giving a soft shrug of his shoulders as he went back to his game that kept alarming him of new threats. With both his eyebrows furrowed this time, the male watched his son carefully when he realised that he wasn't that bothered with the fact he had slept with his mother. Actually, he even dared laughing at him when he was concerned with what he would think of the situation and planned on even giving out explanations. A soft growl escaped his lips when he realised he had been mocked, and there was no way that game he was focusedly playing was enough to stop him from throwing himself over the small child and tickle him all over.

"Dad I -" A louder laugh came out, echoing through the walls as he squirmed underneath his father's strong fingers. There wasn't much space for him to escape, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try. "I'm sorry, I - I - I didn't mean it!"

"Sure you didn't!"

"What if I make you some coffee as an apology?" That was enough to stop the older man from tickling his son to death, and he hoped he didn't look as ridiculous as he felt by the fact he was so willing to make his son his slave. "Mom says you can't function without your cup of coffee in the morning."

"That's alright kid, I'll work it out myself." Guilt had clearly taken control over him, and he couldn't help but grin slightly at his own thoughts. Did that make him a better parent? "Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes, but I wouldn't mind a hot cocoa."

"Yeah, you wouldn't?" He teased, pushing the blankets off his body in order to slip out of bed. Throwing a look over his shoulder, he noticed how his son struggled with stepping out of bed as well without tripping over endless wires. That nearly forced a chuckle out of his mouth if he wasn't instantly worried that he might hurt himself, which led him to walk over to where he was standing and pick him up in his arms.

"You don't have to do that, you know?"

"I know."

"Then why won't you put me down?" A slight, fond smirk was formed on plump lips as Stiles made his way downstairs with the child in his arms. That was surely a great question, but he wasn't squirming off his hold either which meant he didn't mind it, right?

"I have years of making up to you, Jay." That seemed to be the perfect answer to his question, and so the both of them were quiet the rest of the way. When they reached the kitchen, he placed Jonathan onto the counter after checking Lydia was nowhere in sight - for some reason, she seemed to hate when one of them did that - and proceeded to prepare both cups, one of coffee and another one of hot cocoa while he eyed his kid's socks. "What's with the socks?"

"I couldn't find the pairs."

"So you put on a blue and a yellow one?" The only response he got was a nod, drawing a chuckle out of him while he shook his head in pure disbelief. Well, he certainly knew how to take care of himself at least.

A few minutes later, with mugs in hands, both boys made their way out to sit on the porch stairs, and since it wasn't exactly warm outside, so they were forced to take a blanket out and placed it over their legs while sipping from their hot drinks. None of them said anything for a while, merely appreciating the cool morning air that forced shivers up their spines. Not bad for a Sunday morning, he believed. Although he was absolutely loving the time he got to spend with his kid and the mother of his kid, suddenly he found himself missing his time at work. The few weeks at home had been expected, especially when he had been shot in line of duty, but it was almost tortuous knowing that after those horrible - undeniably amazing weeks with the love of his life and their child - boring weeks at home he'd be heading out of it for  **desk duty**. That was even worse than getting shot and he just -

"Would you still want me? If you hadn't left mom?"

"Ah -" His thoughts had literally been interrupted by one of the hardest questions in the world, not to mention unexpected one at that. Of course, he knew the answer as well as he knew himself, he'd always want him. In fact, he regretted everyday not coming home earlier when Lydia had obviously needed him, - when Jonathan himself had needed a father, and though it wasn't too late, he still should have come back earlier - if only he had known. When he realised that it was probably sounding like he was hesitating to answer the question, Stiles quickly broke himself out of his haze and glanced down at his kid who was nervously tracing the rim of his mug. "Of course I would want you. I'd always want you."

"You wouldn't have known, and mama was young which means you would be young -"

"Jonathan," The seriousness in his voice was what stopped the small child from continuing his rant, and when hazel eyes finally looked up to meet kind brown ones, Jay might have noticed then why his mother had loved that man so much in the past. "I would have always wanted you. Whether it was 7 years ago, or now, or in 15 years, I would have always wanted you. If there is a possibility of a life with you, I'd take it immediately. I would never, ever, waste any chance I had to meet you and be your father. I failed you, I was absent and maybe I'm not even a good parent yet but I would never in a million years choose to live without you. You're  **my** kid, and I love you." Those same eyes held a certain truth that could have nearly knocked the air out of him if he had been old enough to know what all of that meant. He noticed throughout that kind, small speech that his father's eyes spoke more than his mouth did and suddenly he realised what people meant when they said that the eyes were the window to a person's soul. He knew that by focusing on the depth of light brown eyes that assured him that though his life had been hard - in ways he hadn't even noticed until that man set a foot in his life - maybe nothing would be easier, but at least he had his own knight in shining armour to protect and defend him at all times. He had a father.

"You're wrong," He could see regret, sorrow, a little bit of heartache, and what it seemed to be grief, as those words slipped out of his mouth and his dad's brows furrowed in both confusion and sadness. "You are a good father. Maybe you found your way to us a little bit too late, but at least you're always here now. You take me to soccer practise and you never miss lunch. You even gave me my own room when you didn't have to, and you also got me a night light which you never forget to leave on." It was amazing the things you could realise only by observing people carefully, and though a six year old wasn't supposed to think that way, he still managed to notice the way his father's expression softened upon hearing those words, as if he had lifted this giant weight off his shoulders and had allowed him to breathe for the first time in decades. "You're here, that's all that matters."

"I guess I never did thank you for that, did I?" Watching as the boy's face twisted in confusion, he cleared his throat quietly and continued. "For letting me be here for you."

"Better you than Nicholas."

"Okay, you've been spending too much time with me." He said, doing his best to fake annoyance at his son's attempt at a joke, though he couldn't hide the pride he felt from his tone, which earned a smile from him. As he wrapped one of his long arms around Jay's shoulders, he pulled him closer and kissed the top of his head. 

"Do you think you and mom will ever get back together?"

"I don't know, what do you think?"

"I think you will." It was the certainty in his soft tone of voice that got Stiles to frown, uncertain of the reason why his son was so sure that his parents would get back together after so much time. Well, he knew that he had been playing a dangerous game with Lydia, - spending so many nights together, family meals every day, coming to each other for help when needed, - they surely had been pushing things for people who hadn't been planning to end up together after all that aching. But he had been so focused on just spending time with them - with her - that he had barely given himself time to think about what all that meant. Were they going to have another chance after all? He could nearly listen to his best friend giggling mockingly at him.  _After all these years_ , he thought.. well, maybe?

"Don't you have homework?" That was a very lame way of getting himself out of that one, but apparently it had worked seeing the kid quickly nodded his head affirmatively and prepared to leave. 

"Yes," He confirmed at last, grasping tightly on the cup that was already empty. "But can I have a little bit of your coffee before going?"

With a quick glance around him to assure himself that Lydia still wasn't there, he nodded and handed his cup over.  _I'm going to hell_ , but well, at least it was all worth it. A soft, full of mischief, grin found its way up to his lips as he watched how his son was cautious enough to look around him as well before taking a rather long sip from the still warm coffee. They were just the same, it was a wonder how the poor banshee managed to deal with them both without going complete nuts.

The blanket was still comfortably laid out across his legs, and he carefully placed the cup next to him on the top of the stairs he was still sitting on. Since Jonathan had already gone inside to do his homework, it felt like the perfect moment to dwell on what he had said before leaving. It was heartwarming knowing his - _their_ \- kid was cheering for them both, hoping they would still find their way to each other after their messy past. Truth was, they had always found a way to work things out together, found their way back to each other. Stiles knew he had literally done everything he could to sabotage their relationship in the beginning, being the self-destructive fella he was believing that he didn't deserve anything good - especially Lydia Martin. There were times he felt like they weren't going to make it, like she was too good, too gracious to be with a guy like him that would jump into dangerous situations at any chance. A part of him always knew that's what all of them did, but seeing he was also the only one who didn't have any kind of supernatural power to guard him off terrible situations, he always figured he had to be the most miserable, despicable one. Thus, he'd do everything in his power to screw himself out of one of the only good things he had in life and most times, he believed he had nearly done it - _he had ruined them_. But Lydia had always been strong enough to fight against his insecurities, for them both, to be with him which was an absolute shock at first. He was the one who had been madly in love with the girl for years, and years. Though it didn't take him long to understand that the strawberry blonde loved hard, so hard, that it would take more than a poor attempt at breaking them up to stop her from fighting for them. That was, until he left her, them, without even giving her so much as the possibility to put up a fight. Whatever he had done in the past that almost assured him they were done was absolutely nothing compared to walking out on her, when she was pregnant with their child, even if that was unknown to him back then. Unfortunately, he had been too weak to see and find the light at the end of the tunnel, the slightest bit of hope, in order to make it work, to help him survive. And when he saw nothing, he figured it was best not holding her back. He didn't want to be her anchor. It was unfair, right? Holding her down? Letting her drown? So, instead of earning the chance of staying with her, he decided giving up was a far better solution. No one knew, but he had regretted the decision the minute he realised he was miles away from seeing her, touching her, - from giving her a ridiculous apology that would never erase his mistake or make things better. 

And he had missed it all. The electric gaze, those hazel green eyes he had seen his future in. The reassuring, disconcerting, almost too perfect dimpled smile that had him believing that maybe he was better than he thought himself to be. The luscious, pale lips that had left a lingering taste of strawberry in his mouth with the simplest of kisses. And the touch.. overwhelming, loving touch that always demonstrated how much she cared for him. She didn't only love him, she cared about him. He hadn't realised he had built a wall around himself until she broke through it. He didn't know that one could have it all, not until he realised that she had been so open, and bare in front of him, willing to give it all to him and all he had to do was accept. But even accepting it seemed hard, **scary**.

All he knew, at that very moment, is that he wanted that choice back. He wanted to be able to accept it, all of it - he wanted _her_. So with a nod of his head, he folded the blanket neatly knowing that would make her proud and grabbed the dirty cup before heading inside as well, only to find her in front of the kitchen counter with endless grocery bags around her.

"There you are -"

"Think we could ask my father to look after Jonathan today?" He interrupted, not missing the way she frowned as she eyed him carefully, probably searching for any signs of madness.

"It's Sunday." She started, as logically as she could, though it didn't help him understanding where she was going with that. "We're both home, isn't it kind of an absurd asking your father to take Jonathan for the day?"

"Please Lydia, I'll make it worth it. Only for today."

"O-Okay." She mumbled hesitatingly, wincing at how unsure she sounded which got her to nod more reassuringly.

"I'll pick you up after lunch." He said, moving closer to her after placing the cup in the sink and pressed a soft kiss on her lips. With that, he took off, leaving her completely speechless.

"Wait, Stiles -" But it was too late, he was already upstairs and definitely ignoring each of her attempts to talk to him and find out what was happening. 

There it was, the strawberry taste, he thought as he left the house and headed to his own apartment.

 

* * *

 

 

The roar of a motorcycle was heard from the outside while she finished putting on her jacket. Not long after that, it was all quiet as the vehicle came to a stop and she frowned. _That wasn't Stiles, that couldn't be Stiles, no_ \- a loud growl escaped her lips as she rushed out of the front door and watched the male pulling off his black helmet, looking too attractive and oddly giving off a dangerous vibe while mounting it. The crooked, but still too sexy, smirk made its appearance and she hummed silently. The beard was gone, good. She quickly realised she was ready to put up a fight, not wanting to get on it but it still wouldn't work. She had always been weak to tell him no.

"I'm not getting on that."

"I promise I'll go slowly."

"That's an empty promise, Stiles." That annoyingly sexy grin only grew wider, stealing one of her own, as he grabbed a spare helmet and placed it carefully on the seat behind him.

"I'll let you ride it on the way back?"

"Not interested."

"Do you trust me?"

"Not the point."

"Please, Lydia?" With a huff, she finally, but still reluctantly, walked closer and took the helmet he gladly handed over. Letting him help her put it over her head, she narrowed her eyes at him, noticing the way he watched her intently while snapping the chin strap into place. This was going to be interesting, she thought. 

"What's with you boys and motorcycles anyway?"

"Well, less gas." He started while putting on his own helmet, swallowing a chuckle at the fact she was still holding some distance between her and the bike. As he shook his head slowly, he lifted the kick stand, "Easier to park." Pushing down on the kick start, the motorcycle roared to life with a loud rumble and the hum he released was muffled by the engine. The way she flinched didn't go unnoticed by him, and he could imagine her rolling her eyes behind the helmet. "More flexible in traffic. We look cool. Hop on!"

"You look ridiculous." She growled, accepting his help to climb onto the back of the motorcycle. Almost out of instinct, her arms were around his waist in a tight hold bringing a soft smile to his lips.

"And, of course, I get to have your arms around me, which is obviously the best part." Those words were spoken in a loud tone, enough that she could hear him talking over the sound of the engine, and though he couldn't see her, he knew she had a smile on her face as he popped the bike in gear before they took off down the street.

Her hands gripped tightly on the leather jacket, not because she was scared but because she felt like touching him was absolutely off limits. There was this urge deep within her nearly encouraging her to press her hands against his abdomen, yet she fought against it, figuring there should be a right time for all of that. She wasn't dumb, she knew exactly how he reacted to her touch and since it was already dangerous enough riding a motorcycle - fun nonetheless, she couldn't deny that and maybe she'd take up on that offer of riding it back home - she didn't wish to make things even more dangerous by distracting him. 

He sped down towards the woods, where they had often found each other in trouble,  taking a different turn towards the nearest lake where they could have some privacy, _all a part of his brilliant plan_ , and as he felt her arms squeezing him tighter but still not touching him in any sensitive area that might end up with them both across the road, he smiled fondly at how they were still close enough and he couldn't help but take some comfort in that. Maybe his sudden attempt at working things out, at finding himself a new chance to be a part of her life in something other than just the father of her child, wasn't that bad. He pulled into a parking space, putting the kick stand down before turning off the ignition. The girl was instantly off the motorcycle, not even giving him enough time to take a breath as she simply removed her helmet and started eyeing herself up and down for any signs of bruising. How dramatic.

"Jesus Christ Stiles, I -" Stopping mid-sentence as he pulled off his helmet to show his tousled dark hair, stealing her breath away as she quickly stared into his endless brown eyes and gulped anxiously. "I'd like not to leave my son motherless, please." She had intended to sound aggressive, hoping to show how unimpressed she supposedly felt about mounting a bike, but as her mouth opened and the words came out, she sounded weak, mesmerised by the man who looked so relaxed on the seat, his helmet between his thighs as the soft breeze that flew through them ruffled his hair even more, in a somewhat gracious motion.

"I wouldn't have asked you to come if I knew it would harm you in any way."

"Well -"

"Do you want to keep complaining or would you rather take a walk?"

With another huff, louder than the previous one, she threw her helmet harshly at him and turned away to leave. There was something entertaining about pouting when he was around, perhaps because he always tried to make it up to her when it was absolutely unnecessary. Sometimes she found herself puporsely acting like a child only to see the tricks up his sleeve, which usually always melted her heart. He tended to say how Jonathan was just like her, and he didn't know how wrong he was. Looking up at him and seeing those puppy dog eyes while he attempted and succeeded at making her happy with some random thing that he managed to come up with at the moment, - that only proved how he and their son were alike. Jay had often tried the same thing, managing to steal a grin or two from his mother even when she was supposed to stay mad at him. 

"Are you always this rude?" Lydia folded her arms over her chest, protectively wrapping them around herself in an attempt to keep herself warmer without complaining to him how much colder she was beginning to feel, so she wouldn't effortlessly hand him a chance to take care of her. Still, her dimples popped out as a soft smirk was formed on her lips upon feeling how close he already was - and how amused he soundeed - and then she remembered how much longer his legs were than hers, which meant that it wasn't that hard to keep up with her for him.

"You tell me."

"Are you cold?"

"Yes." The answer was out of her mouth before she had the chance to think it through, her face twitching in a comical grimace at the fact that what she had been avoiding just a few seconds ago was about to happen. Her subconscious was playing tricks on her, - her subconscious needed him close. And as crazy as it sounds, wrapping his jacket around her shoulders and snuggle into it always made her feel him closer. Maybe it was his scent, or the fact that the garment belonged to him. However, when she felt herself being pulled against one of his sides while his arm wrapped around her securely, she frowned. That was better, but not what she was thinking of at all. "That wasn't what I was expecting."

His helmet dangled slightly on his other hand, she noticed by the corner of her eye, and she could feel the way his stupid smirk she sadly loved so much grew by the second. "Okay, I can -"

"No!" She spoke a little louder than she planned, quickly pulling his arm around her once again while they walked around the lake slowly. Anything better than his sweet scent, was the sound his breathing and his tight, safe hold around her. "Am I allowed to finally know why we're here? And why did our kid have to stay with his grandfather?"

"I.. uh.." The sudden hesitation his tone manifested, so unlike the confident vibe he gave off earlier, caused her to frown as she decided it was okay to slip one of her arms around his waist, under his jacket, and hopefully that would give him the strength he so desperately needed. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Okay?" She cleared her throat, realising she was scared all of a sudden. Oh, no,  _was it the time they had been spending together_ , she wondered. It was often that she would feel like he would end up deciding it was better keeping some distance from her once again, for their kid's sake. In fact, she remembered quite well, - and frequently replayed the memory in her mind - how he told her it was best if he figured out how to be a father to Jonathan before getting to know her again. She figured he didn't have enough time to figure things out yet, and that scared her more than she liked to admit. Being a parent wasn't easy, there was still so much he had to learn but, to be fair, he was never going to know everything. There would always be something for them to learn. "What is it?"

"What happened to Nick?"

"Nick?"

"Uh, yes?" He didn't know what to think of her sudden confusion. Should he have asked? Was it  _okay_ to ask? Was he even allowed to ask?

"We, um -" Of course he was, they had been spending so much time together. In fact, any free time Lydia got was used to watch over him - and Jonathan, of course - which meant she hadn't had the time to be with her new boyfriend. He figured he had at least the right to know how things were going, not that the juicy details ever mattered to him. Actually, he'd rather not think about it. "We broke up right after Allison and Scott's wedding."

The look of surprise in his face drew a loud laugh out of her, as if the fact they had been sleeping on the same bed for the past days wasn't enough of an answer. "He didn't want to be with a woman that would let her six year old dictate her life, and I didn't want to date a guy that was a complete prick."

"That's ridiculous -"

"Well, to be fair,  **he** was ridiculous. Jonathan wasn't dictating my life, but no matter what happens, he'll always be my first priority. It's not that he didn't like him, Nick just made sure he had done everything that would get him not to like him. I won't lie, I was upset you had approached me in such a brusque manner at the wedding -" It amazed him how he hadn't asked her anything, but she still answered all of his questions, as if she knew exactly what went through his mind. "Mostly because I wasn't used to have someone who wanted the same thing I did, his safety, and also because I was mad I hadn't tried harder to see how things were going on between them."

"It wasn't your fault."

"No, it was." Lydia nodded her head, squeezing him unconsciously before she slowly let go of him and leaned against the railing of the bridge instead to stare down at the water. "You might have seen it already, our son isn't exactly the quiet type of child. Yes, he is shy, and he hardly ever trusts someone new. But he's still capable of conversing. He's good at communicating, he loves learning new things, discuss what he knows. And suddenly he got quiet, he didn't even try talking to him, and whenever I asked, he simply shrugged his shoulders in response. I didn't think much of it, I just figured that maybe he wasn't used to me dating and he was still adjusting to all of it. I should have tried harder."

"You had no way of knowing." He soothed, stepping closer to her until their bodies were pressed against each other and his hands were on top of hers on the railing. As he propped his chin on one of her shoulders, he continued. "You just assumed that if he treated you well, he was going to do the same thing for Jonathan."

"Well, I was wrong." Her tongue darted out to lick her suddenly dry lips, and she snuggled closer in his embrace. "Anyway, why did you ask?"

"I was secretly hoping you had told him to fuck off."

"Language." She scolded, not even attempting to hold back a chuckle. Of course he wanted that.

"Jonathan told me he thought we'd end up together." Deciding it was best to put some distance between them at that point, Stiles reluctantly pulled away and leaned against the railing as well, though he didn't face the water that flowed under them. "I was shocked at first, but then I assumed that he is quite smart for his age, but he is a kid nonetheless. That means he simply is expecting his parents to get together eventually, which is more than okay. I just couldn't help but think about how much I actually want that too."

"I thought you wanted to find a way to be his father first."

"I did, but then I realised that I can be his father and still try again with you at the same time." He confessed, finally daring to look up at her only to lose himself in the intense hazel green eyes that watched him expectantly. "Besides, we were always good together. You make me be a better me. I figured you'd only help me with that too, even if you're not supposed to. It's my job to learn all of it on my own. Then again I remember how good we were at babysitting together."

_"Liam, please don't throw up on the backseat of my jeep."_

_"Really? That's what you're worried about? I'm a little bit more concerned with the fact that werewolves aren't supposed to get drunk that easily."_

_"Well, then something went wrong, Lydia. What do you expect me to do? I can't do anything about that, but I can surely stop that child from throwing up on my beautiful leather seat that always takes a lot to clean." That constant bickering had been going on for while, perhaps since the moment they left the party they had all been invited to after their victory at lacrosse - which nearly felt like a miracle, - and the beta wasn't sure if it was the alcohol making him dizzy, or the fact that his friends hadn't stopped arguing._

_Ignoring the dirty look Lydia sent him through the rearview, Stiles helped Liam up on the seat, opening the window so the cool night air would calm things a bit. The way the younger teen practically threw his head out of the window should have been amusing, but it only concerned him further. Maybe Lydia was right? A loud scoff broke him out of his thoughts and he noticed how she was watching them both instead of keeping her eyes on the road._

_"Seriously Lydia, if you crash my jeep, I'll get rid of all of your shoes!"_

_"I'm surprised you let me drive it."_

_"Trust me, I will regret that decision forever. Now keep your eyes on the road, and speed up a little. He's too pale! He's gonna vomit!"_

_"Stop freaking out!"_

_"Quit fighting!" A weak, rough voice was heard and the couple quickly turned to the source of that sound, - well, Stiles turned and Lydia peeked through the rearview once more. "Seriously guys, that's so annoying like I can't even -" The way their young friend slurred his words caused them both to burst out into hysterical laughter, which brought him to giggle maniacally as well._

_"Okay, don't giggle like that please. You'll probably be sick."_

_"Oh for crying out -"_

_"Eyes on the road, Lydia!"_

_"Stop telling me what to do!"_

_"Oh god -" The third voice was more of a cry, as the blonde boy once again threw his head out the window and grunted under his breath._

"I don't think taking care of drunk Liam should be qualified as babysitting."

"We were still pretty good at it." He stated proudly, laughing softly at her as she rolled her eyes.

"It took us about half hour to change him into his pyjamas."

"At least he didn't vomit."

"God, you're impossible." The fondness in her eyes was what assured him that even when he was insufferable, she still loved him. Their connection was so, so strong, pulling them together even when the both of them tried fighting against it by keeping their distance, and most of the time, words weren't even needed. Somehow, he knew she loved him, and she knew he loved her.

"What I mean is, I decided that my journey as a father should be an obstacle on our relationship and that is nonsense. I will always be a father, and if I let myself believe I need to have that role before being something, other than the father of your child, to you, we will never have a chance. And I want that chance, that last chance. I need you to give me just one last try, because I strongly believe I could be different."

"I never needed you to be different, Stiles." She sighed softly, turning her gaze back to the water. "I loved us, I loved how we were. I didn't need you to be different."

_"Stiles, maybe -"_

_"Shut up, Scott." He stood behind his girlfriend, his arms coming to wrap around her as they both held the basketball in their hands and he looked up at the basket. Little did he know that she was subtly using that as a chance to press against him and purposely even grind against him._

_"Man, I don't think she -"_

_They had agreed on playing some basketball at the end of the day, since things around town were rather peaceful. It only meant that eventually it would get a lot worse, and none of it would be easier for them, but still that didn't mean they couldn't have some fun time together. That's what Stiles had insisted on for weeks, anyway. And so they were on court, having played two games already and Lydia hadn't stopped complaining on how she didn't get to score any points. He had been mocking her on how she was short and that was the problem, her small legs not helping her case and how she couldn't even hold the ball in her tiny, delicate hands, which ended with her elbowing him hard on the ribs. Guilt had eventually affected him, and so he decided to help. Terrible idea, seeing he was the one being mocked then. Scott had tried warning him a few times, while Allison laughed quietly and both Mason and Liam's faces twitched in disgust meanwhile, but he didn't seem to notice any of that._

_"Lydia, I can't -" He mumbled, trying to get away from her every time she moved her hips teasingly against his, giving the idea they were in the middle of a sensual dance. "I cannot concentrate - Lydia, that is not in no way helping - Lydia, I need - For fuck's sake Lydia!"_

_"Language!" She admonished, watching him over one of her shoulders as he slowly pulled back, causing the ball to bounce on the ground._

_"I'm trying to help you here!"_

_"So am I! I was only adjusting my position!"_

_"You're freaking grinding against me, tempting me in front of our friends!"_

_"That's what you get for being a dick!" She spat, grabbing the ball once again after pointing a finger accusingly at him._

_"Language." Liam tried, only to earn a few death glares as he squirmed comically. "Kidding, of course."_

_Not missing the way Stiles rolled his eyes, she threw a wink over at the younger male, holding back a laugh at the way he blushed slightly and then twirled the ball on her hand, her hazel eyes set on the target before she tossed the ball, watching it as it went through the hoop gracefully. This time, it wasn't hard to notice the way their friends were laughing at him, forcing a frown onto his face._

_"You knew how to play this whole time?"_

_"Well, you know, blame the small legs and delicate hands!"_

_"I - um - what? Scott! What the hell?"_

"We went through so much, I'll agree with that. But despite all of that, you were amazing. It was so easy being around you, letting myself be healed by you. I didn't, and I don't need you to be different."

_"That Derek guy is a jerk." A scowl found its way to his gorgeous face as he moaned about the show for the thousandth time, earning another chuckle from his girlfriend who didn't seem to be able to contain her amusement at how indignant he felt at that moment._

_"I think he's hot."_

_"He cheated on his wife, who had cheated on him with his best friend, proceeded to sleep with an intern, who then he decided to harass. Later on he chose his wife over the intern who hadn't cheated on him, punched the guy that slept with his wife, laughed at the wife's private areas, left the wife, got back with the intern.. I - he's a douche!"_

_"He's romantic. And hot. And has an amazing hair."_

_"That's another thing." He rolled his eyes, wrapping his arm tighter around her mid-section as she leaned her weight onto his torso. "There is absolutely nothing special about his hair!"_

_"It's a great hairstyle."_

_"Mine is better. Also the blue eyes? Please, how cliché. Everyone loves the blue eyes!"_

_"Are you jealous of Derek Shepherd?"_

_"He's an asshole!"_

_"Language." She poked him playfully, placing a soft kiss on his pale neck afterwards. "And he's hot."_

_"He keeps saying he has a thing for ferry boats. Like, no one even cares about that."_

_"He's really, really hot."_

_"So you said."_

_"But he's got nothing on you." She tried, looking up fondly at him in hopes that would get him to just **stop** talking, but he merely scoffed._

_"Obviously. That dude is a dick."_

_"Jesus Stiles, is there anyone you like on the show?"_

_"I like Izzie." Seeing the look she was giving him, he frowned. "What? She's hot!"_

_"Oh, - OH! Really?"_

_A soft laugh escaped his lips and he quickly captured hers in a gentle kiss before she'd have the chance to pull back from him. "I love you."_

"I just meant I'm not going anywhere this time."

"I sure hope not. But unfortunately that wasn't the only thing holding us back. Will you sabotage us? Do things that you think are better for us, without consulting me, and eventually let us pull back from each other?"

"No, Lydia -" The male stepped closer once again, sliding only one of his arms around her hips to pull her closer as he nearly begged her to see he was trying, with a pout. He really only wanted her.

"You can't promise me you won't do that."

"No, I can't. But I can promise I will try not to. I said I want to be different."

"But I don't need you to be different!"

_Her small mouth opened widely enough to steal a bite from his burger, and he whined. "Lydia! Get your own!"_

_"No, it's unhealthy!" She said around a full mouth, and he couldn't help but notice a bit of ketchup on the corner of her mouth._

_"You just ate most of it!"_

_"It was only a bite!" Slipping his thumb across her smooth skin, he gathered the sauce she still hadn't wiped off her face and then licked it off his own finger. Both Scott and Allison stared intently at them, their brows furrowed in both discomfort and confusion. Those were their friends, who were madly in love with each other, and yet would always deny their feelings. Their friends who had been avoiding the clear chemistry they shared, the sexual attraction, and the emotional connection. They had been running from it for too long, only to unconsciously do things they weren't even supposed to do - because ordinary friends don't do that._

_"I, um -" Was Lydia Martin actually stuttering? That was new. The couple watched in amusement their flushed cheeks, and awkward movements to pull away from each other so they could, once again, escape from those intense feelings._

_"I'll get my own."_

"Sure we've had our bad things, that definitely need to change. But I don't want  **you** to be different. I loved you the way you were, I  **love** you the way you  **are**. I want the Stiles from our best friends' wedding that danced with a girl only to make her smile."

_Small feet stepped on his black shoes before he slowly began to guide them both across the room, the soft sound of music filling his ears but not taking all his attention away as he focused on the small child in front of him in the meantime._

_"You comfortable there?"_

_"Yes." The tiny voice spoke up, causing Stiles to smile brightly while he swayed them slowly. "Don't your feet hurt?"_

_"No!" He scoffed playfully, shaking his head rapidly. "You're light as a feather, sweetie."_

_A sweet giggle broke free, and his smile grew wider as light brown eyes met deep green ones that stared up at him with an innocent affection he couldn't expect in anyone but a child. Her name was Brooke, and she was one of Allison's little cousins who had been slightly upset for the past hour since she really didn't like clowns either and all kids seemed to be around them. Odd choice of entertainment for kids, he had told his friend before being absolutely in awe of blonde curls and an adorable pout that would have broken his heart if he hadn't found it too cute. He had approached her with a few long strides and asked her to chance, which she was delighted to accept. Scott had joked on how he had found the girl of his dreams in his wedding, and though he wanted to tell him the jerk he was, he chose not to - besides, he had laughed anyway._

_Picking her up, he twirled them around and laughed softly as hysterical chuckles slipped out of the child's mouth while she held on tightly onto his neck. When he had finally put her down, and bowed dramatically to show his appreciation for the dance, his eyes had landed on a familiar female figure that was close, too close, and he nearly lost himself in her._

_"Why don't you ask her to dance?"_

_"Well, do you think I should?" He said, his attention back to where it belonged in the first place while the corners of his mouth curled up tenderly._

_"You asked me." She mumbled hesitatingly while shrugging her shoulders nervously. Clearly, she didn't enjoy the attention._

_"Well, but you're the prettiest girl in the room." That got him the lovely grin he had been hoping for while scooping her up in his arms again. "And I have the right person for you to dance with, wanna see him?"_

_"Yes!"_

_Ignoring the girl he did want to dance with, Stiles made his way towards his son, unaware of hazel eyes watching each of his movements carefully. He sat the smaller girl in front of his kid and smiled softly. "Jay, this is Brooke!" His child's eyes widened in what could be called nervousness, and he had to stifle a laugh._

_"H-Hi Brooke." He mumbled tentatively, making the girl blush slightly. That was absolutely adorable._

"You saw that?"

"Yes." She nodded, her eyes twinkled with a playfulness he hadn't seen in a while, and her loving smile stole one of his.

"I -" His strong hands lifted up slightly and cupped her cold cheeks, tracing her soft skin with his thumbs when he realised it was time to pour his heart out. "I've been telling myself during this whole time that it's too late, I could never get you back. And maybe I've been reading all the signs wrong, but you've been there for me throughout my recovery. You haven't left my side once Lydia, and that has made me think that maybe I still had a chance. A part of me figured that even if we had a kid together, that didn't mean you'd still let me in your life. I thought you had stopped loving me a long time ago. And I was okay with that as long as I got to be with Jonathan, but then you would come over, change my bandages, make me dinner, sleep in my bed. You'd soothe me back to sleep, make sure I was okay after my nightmares. You'd hold me when I woke up screaming, you'd - you were there! And the fact you're the mother of my son doesn't mean you have to do all that."

"I didn't do all that only because you're Jonathan's dad."

"Then please -" He leaned his forehead against hers, feeling slight droplets of rain falling on his tousled hair and covered shoulders. "Please, if you want this as much as I do, give me a try. I will not disappoint you, I will do my very best, - please, Lydia."

"I could never stop loving you, Stiles." She murmured, her fingers coming up to wrap around his strong but still slender wrists, not wanting to break their contact but bring him even closer. "Trust me, for a while, I tried. But you were everywhere. I was a mother, my last thought was dating someone. As crazy as it sounds, I was happy with what I had. Focusing on our kid, on my career was all I needed. So, I didn't want anyone else. Part of it was also because I wanted you back. And that was unhealthy for a very long time, there were moments when I was so desperate I'd cry myself to sleep after I was sure Jonathan was sleeping in his crib -"

"Lydia -"

"But I could never stop loving you. You were still mine. Through Jonathan, you were still mine, and I loved that because letting go of you was the hardest thing I had to do - even if I was forced to. I still hoped you'd come back, and you did. And you hurt me, I can't deny that, you did. So I figured that now you were back, things weren't getting any better for us, so maybe I should move on. I didn't want to. I don't want to. And maybe it's as unhealthy as it was crying for you, but I need you."

"Does that mean -"

"I will give you one more chance. But you need to understand -" Rain started to pour down madly as time went by, but they still held each other close. "You wouldn't be hurting only me, if you do something wrong. Jonathan too."

"I know, I won't -"

"You need to try hard. Promise you will do that at least."

"I promise."

"Can we get out of here now, please? This blouse was expensive." There was something drawing their lips together, something that kept their mouths mere inches away from each other and when she spoke, he could feel her warm, deep breathing against his cold, wet lips, urging him closer. However, that comment about the blouse was what snapped him out of it and he couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle before nodding his head in response while grabbing one of her hands and lead her up to where they had left the motorcycle.

"See how absolutely ridiculous this idea was?" She complained after pulling the helmet on, no help this time.

"Just get on the bike, Lydia!" He yelled loud enough so she could hear over the sound of the engine.

By the time he parked the bike and they dismounted it, they were both practically soaked as they sprinted inside. With a loud bang, the front door was shut while he rushed into the living room, Lydia not far behind.

"I'll light the fire."

"I'll find us some clothes." They said in unison, causing Stiles to smile softly at her before he approached the fireplace while she headed up the stairs. The whole ride back home, he kept thinking about how much he wished he had just kissed her when he got the chance, - it took a lot of effort and control to eventually keep his eyes on the road instead of causing an accident. As he lit up a fire, though, his mind once again filled with images of her and how absolutely stunning she looked in the rain.

"I'm not sure these will fit -" She started, startling him out of his thoughts as he jumped on his feet and turned to face her, the sight before him causing his mouth to water.

Lydia stood in the middle of the quiet room, - the only thing heard being the wood cracking and their heavy breathings as they stared at one another, - no jeans on anymore, and with her white blouse unbuttoned so her black lace bra was peeking slightly. His gaze was set on full breasts, and even if she wanted to scold him for it, she found herself amazed by the hunger that suddenly filled those no longer light, but incredibly dark, brown eyes. He swallowed audibly, unsure of what to do next as his thoughts suddenly turned into rather impure ones. There was no way he should be thinking of her like that at that moment, rushing everything would only make things worse for them but he wanted her. His eyes raked through soft curves as he tried really hard to pull his gaze off her breasts, - though this sudden urge of touching her, touching that skin that clearly begged to be touched, that body that needed to be loved, shot through him and he wasn't sure if he could control himself anymore.

Taking slow, tentative steps towards her, who had just released a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, Stiles tugged at the hem of her blouse and licked his lips anxiously. His eyes found hers in a silent plea, questioning her with his soft gaze if it was alright to move forward. A weak, barely noticeable, nod was all he got before shaky fingers lifted up to unbutton the rest of her blouse and push it off her shoulders, letting it drop with a quiet thud behind them. 

His hands traced smooth, creamy skin that he hadn't touched in so, so long, and a soft gasp slid off his lips in a rush at the heat that radiated off her body. Not wasting more time, he placed his lips on hers, kissing her softly, slowly, as he began a gentle exploration of her mouth. Feeling her hands gripping lightly on the collar of his soaked shirt, he stepped forward until her back was pressed against the wall, - his body trapping hers between him and the wall - and a silent moan escaped her lips at the touch of his tongue against her own while his fingers continued their journey across warm skin, stroking every inch of it he could find before pulling back from the kiss and watch what he had been doing for the past moments. 

Watching as her chest heaved up and down with each breath she took, Stiles lips parted slightly at the beautiful sight before him, - one he could never get tired of seeing and at the same time, one he had missed and longed for so much - while his fingertips trailed across her stomach. A small smirk was formed on plump lips as he noticed the way her muscles twitched underneath his touch, which not long after that stopped just on the underside of Lydia's breasts.

"Have you always looked this beautiful?"

Chuckling slightly at the question, she shrugged her shoulders anxiously feeling too bare in front of him. It had been a while since he'd seen her like that, since he looked at her like that, with that much desire, and though she could already feel her own arousal pooling between her legs at the anticipation of what was to come, she still wondered what that deep, overwhelming lust present in his eyes meant. Suddenly, his lips hovered against her own, forcing her to seek for more contact that he denied, amusement taking over his features upon seeing how much she wanted him to continue. Instead, he pressed slight, open-mouthed kisses down her throat, feeling its movements as she swallowed thickly which drew a quiet murmur from him until he stopped down at her collar bone, tracing it with his tongue as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. A louder moan of frustration was heard, and he found himself peeking up at her to see what was the source of her annoyance, only to find out she hadn't been able to unbutton a single button. Before his brain could function and he tried to help her, her hands tugged harshly on the garment until it was ripped open and buttons flew everywhere.

"That was my favourite." He teased while he trailed her curves with both his palms.

"I'll buy you a better one."

"Sounds fair." The cheeky grin that played at her lips ignited a fire deep within him, causing him to crash his mouth into hers again in a much fiercer kiss while his fingers slipped around her waist to her lower back, and eventually up to her bra clasp so he could remove it. Waiting for her consent, which was a rather hard nip at his lower lip, he pulled the straps down until the offensive garment fell on the floor between them while her hands trailed up hard abs towards his chest.

"Stiles -"

"I know." He murmured against soft lips, pulling back from them completely in order to gaze at her. His reaction upon finding her mesmerising hazel green eyes closed while her swollen lips parted slightly, was somewhat comical to anyone who had the chance to see him at that moment. He smiled, unable to hide the joy he felt at that moment since he was the one who got to make her feel like that, and then he brushed his lips against heated skin, his mouth travelling down towards his intended destination. With one of his hands tightly pressed against her stomach, his fingertips dug slightly on tender flesh as he finally enveloped her in the warmth of his mouth.

Gasping for air, her eyes flew open as she felt the way plump lips wrapped around one of her nipples that hardened instantly at the soft touch. Her knees practically buckled, only to be lifted off the ground until her legs were wrapped around his hips and he held her as close as humanly possible. While his tongue rolled over her erect nipple, she ran her fingers through his dark, and soaked hair, before she felt herself being guided upstairs.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm not doing this on the couch, Lyds, not after so long." Her eyes softened at the answer, since a part of her didn't know what to expect. Of course he was going to do everything in his power to make sure she was one hundred percent comfortable. That same mouth that had just released one of her nipples with a pop moved towards the one that he hadn't paid attention to, and a soft moan found its way out of her lips at the soft, gentle stroke of his tongue that teased and taunted her to no end. 

Reaching the top of the stairs, he leaned back to look up at her and found himself feeling a sensation of nervousness he hadn't felt before. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

 

* * *

 

 

The ripped shirt and his no longer soaked jeans were what he decided to wear after waking in the middle of the night, having completely forgotten about the clothes she had earlier found for him. When he exited her room, he had been careful enough to assure himself that she was still asleep and her naked body was covered with the bedsheets at least. If it weren't for the sudden, crushing pain he felt, he would have considered waking her for another round. However, he had to force himself on his feet to go downstairs in order to take the muscle relaxer that had been prescribed to him. After taking it, he padded into the living room where the fire was nearly out, but not completely, so he quickly tried to revive it before approaching the large window to watch the rain that still poured down madly, hoping it would soothe him in the slighest. The faint moonlight sneaked in the room, giving him enough opportunity to walk around it without stumbling on anything.

"Stiles?"

"Mm?"

"Are you okay?" She mumbled, concern evident on her tone while he twirled on his heels to look at her. With his hoodie and a pair of new panties on, Lydia was the most gorgeous woman on earth.

"Yeah baby, go back to sleep."

"Does it hurt?"

"Only a bit." It was pointless trying to lie to her, she had already taken a few, large steps towards him in order to press her hand against his bare chest that seconds ago she could stare at thanks to the moonlight. Then, the only thing she could see was the flames shadowing against his tender skin.

"Do you think it was because of -"

"God, no!" She usually was the smart one in the relationship, - and he figured that being a doctor, she'd know the reason why he was feeling pain, - but when it came to him, she was so insecure she never could listen to her rational self, - to her big, beautiful brain. "It happens sometimes. I'll be okay soon."

With an affirmative nod of her head, she let him turn to the window again and wrapped one of her arms around his torso as her other hand played with dark hair gently. Hiding her face on his shirt, between his shoulder blades, she held back a yawn and swayed them both lightly, which got him smiling as an immediate reaction while they stayed in silence for a while.

"I'm hungry." She finally spoke up, breaking the peace that surrounded them both as she pushed him until he turned to face her again.

"Do you want me to make you something?"

"No, you're in pain."

"Nonsense, I will cook you something."

"Well, if you insist..." 

The look of innocence on her face was replaced with a mischievous glint in her eyes as her lips curled up in a seductive grin, instantly making him want to do something to avenge himself for falling so easily on her trap. But when he finally came up with a plan that could be just as cruel as that smile and the things it did to him, she was already running into the kitchen, as if she knew what he had been thinking about.

A few minutes later, Stiles slipped two plates onto the kitchen table, an omelette on each of them, before he took a seat beside Lydia, who had been reading a medical journal and sipping from her orange juice.

"We're eating omelettes at 4 am." She murmured while his hand covered one of her tinier ones, a strange look on her face when she realised the turn her Sunday had.

"You're welcome." He said teasingly, nearly melting at the warm smile she had reserved only for him, and leaned closer to press a quick kiss on her lips.

"Thank you baby."

 

* * *

 

 

The male leaned against the railing of the front porch while she took a seat on the swing instead, - it was around 7:30 am and his father was driving by to leave Jonathan a while before he had to go to school. They had been concentrated on their quiet chat, only being pulled out of it at the sound of a car door being shut and an exciting squeal was released shortly after that. Turning to face who that was, a pair of light brown eyes, and another of hazel ones widened in shock and a bit of fear when they both realised their son was eyeing the motorcycle parked on the street.

"Can I try it?"

"No!" The parents spoke loudy, - too loud which was absolutely unnecessary.

Jay frowned and almost pouted, when an idea came to his mind and he looked up at Noah. "Grandpa?" He tried.

"Dad, no -"

"Well, I suppose that once wouldn't hurt."

"Dad!"

"I don't mind taking him to school." The older Stilinski started, literally avoiding the other subject while his grandkid rushed inside to get a few other things for school.  _How convenient_ , Stiles thought, but decided to drop it as well. "I would have if any of you would pick up the damn phone."

"Oh I -" Lydia swallowed, shaking her head rapidly in a way that almost made her  _what? what was he to her now?_ boyfriend  _she was definitely going with that_ laugh. "I was in the shower and Stiles was sleeping."

"What? I was not -" Knowing his father was about to tell him how ridiculous it was the fact he was so lazy, he decided not to give him the chance of reprimanding him for no good reason. "I was in the shower too!" It wasn't a lie, but when he realised what Noah was going to think, he cleared his throat and continued. "In the guest room, of-of course."

"Sure."

"You can still take him to school if you want." He changed the subject once again, avoiding the glare his father threw at him. There wasn't much time for him to say anything though, seeing Jonathan stepped out of the house with his schoolbag over one of his shoulders.

"Who's taking me?"

"Um, grandpa is."

Deliberately avoiding how awkward his father was, the child grinned foolishly at his grandfather and approached him quickly. "Can we turn on the sirens on the way?"

"Maybe."

"My father is ruining our child. We should have asked your mother to look after him."

"Are you kidding me?" She whispered, pulling him back inside before he'd embarrass them both even further. "My mother lets him have pancakes for dinner."

"I should have dinner at your mother's more often."

"Jerk." She said with a light laugh.


	13. a reason to start over new, and the reason is you

_"I was thinking -"_

_"Oh, that's never good." The smirk on his face was the reassurance she needed that he was only being playful, not actually meaning those words when he was, after all, the sassiest person alive. His face was still buried in a book though, not looking up to meet her eyes or to see her rolling them before she continued._

_"Could we stay at your place for a while?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_Apparently that question was all it took to break him out of his haze, hearing the book being snapped shut before he threw it onto the coffee table as it occupied the spot that not so long his feet were sitting on._

_"I just thought - I don't know, maybe you're not even up for it, which is fine, really. I don't think I'm even going to make much sense, you'll probably even think I'm not in my right mind -"_

_"Lydia, use your words. Your actual words."_

_"This house, it holds way too many memories and I want us to have a fresh start. I get it's too soon to move in together, but is it really? We're raising a kid together."_

_"Okay."_

_"Okay?" Confusion was written all over her features as she moved closer to sit beside him, noticing he had already picked up the book he was reading a few moments back and that was when she realised the book was, in fact, one of her medical journals. One of her favourite ones, actually. Her heart melted upon knowing that the only reason why he was reading it in the first place was because of that exactly, because **she** loved it. He had always tried to keep up with her, even if he didn't understand most things._

_"Yes, okay."_

_"No, Stiles. You're supposed to freak out and say oh no that's crazy, it's too soon, besides I just bought that place, I need some time to live alone before I have you taking up all of my space -" She said with a thick voice, doing her best impression of him which really wasn't at all flattering._

_"Okay, first of all, I do not talk like that -"_

_"Not the point, dude."_

_"Lydia -"_

_"You're supposed not to like this idea and disagree!"_

_"Lydia -"_

_"What?"_

_"I do like the idea. In fact, I love it. Not to mention it makes no sense whatsoever for you to live here while I'm on the other side of the town, sharing our child's time as if we have actually recently gotten divorced. I said I wanted to do this right, so let's give that a try. Also, we've already been carrying our stuff back and forth, sleeping here and there, making it official won't make any difference." His tone was soothing and was actually working for her since she had already settled beside him, leaning against his shoulder as she peeked at the page he was in, until those last words escaped his lips and she quickly sat upright again._

_"Except it does. You see, everyone says that making it official doesn't make much of a difference, seeing you will be doing the exact same thing. But it does make a difference, because there is the weight of it and it ruins things, and -"_

_"Baby, we got this."_

_"Do we, though?"_

_"Yes, we do."_

_"Why do I have to be the neurotic freak one in this relationship?"_

 

* * *

 

She was brought out of her thoughts by the door that was thrown open, not even bothering to turn around and look at the person who was walking inside since she figured it was Liam. Her boyfriend ( _she had to force herself not to cringe at the word, knowing that's what they had agreed on and though she loved it, deeply, it still bothered her that they were raising a child, a child that a few months back Stiles didn't know of, and though now he was in his life, she wished it was more - well, she was content with what she got, all she wanted was both her boys_ ) was out on a hunting trip with their best friend, Allison, and her father and wasn't supposed to be getting home in other two days, even if she wasn't really sure since none of them had even bothered calling her whilst they were gone. Anyway, she was practically on her knees, peeking under the furniture in order to reach over and grab the rolling pin that had fallen from her hand and rolled under one of the display cabinets whilst she was deep in thought, and as she finally managed to grab it, she wondered why the hell had she looked for it in the first place. But she was quick to also remind herself of the fact that she had been so busy with her inner monologue that her actions shouldn't at all be that surprising.

"Honey, I'm home." The one voice she had not been expecting to hear filled the room, followed by a duffel bag falling on the ground with a loud thud, and she cursed herself for having to check the meal she was supposedly cooking before all of those thoughts attacked her at once, that made it impossible for her to turn around and face the male. 

"Can we have dinner here?" Came the second voice, their best friend, which caused her to frown instantly. Not that she minded feeding her friends, even if it meant having an older adult at the table that would end all the playful bickering before it even started. Chris was a very nice guy, though, not nearly as scary as he was ten years back because after she got the chance to see him with her kid, she realised that he was much more, much better than just a mere hunter.

"Sure, but what about Scott?"

"He was actually the one who suggested it."

Of course he was. It shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did, Scott wasn't usually like that, having always been the loyal, most righteous person she had ever met throughout the years, but every once in a while that sweet, practically naive, guy turned into one of the cheekiest men alive and she always had a good laugh at the way he tended to use that part of him. Inviting himself for dinner without even considering whether or not it was possible or _appropriate_ was surely amusing, but she planned on acting irritated nonetheless. That was, until she turned around to find her friend's father closing the door quietly behind him before her eyes fell on her boyfriend and the rolling pin slipped through her fingers once more, thankfully not landing any near her feet as she scanned the male, up and down, time and time again. 

"Bad day for that rolling pin, huh." Stiles attempted to joke whilst he tugged on his beanie, sliding it off until his dark tousled hair came into view and he nervously rubbed at the back of his neck while trying to avoid her fierce gaze or the way her face twisted into multiple emotions in a matter of seconds.  

Incredibly bright were two words that had always described Stiles Stilinski. He may have not had the good looks ( _which was complete and utter bullshit and she knew that, she had always known that because her man was undoubtedly one of the most handsome men in the world_ ), but he had always been superbly smart. Over the years, he built himself to be the sturdy warrior he was then, though shy and super awkward, he was the bravest and strongest person she knew. What everyone seriously doubted himself to be in the past was exactly the best way to describe that man: a tough intrepid soldier who had seen just about anything and yet nothing was enough to scare him. Frankly, whether he was behind a computer, or with his face buried in a book, or holding a glock 19 in his hands, Stiles had always been absolutely resilient. Unfortunately, none of that had actually prepared for such sight, not then or in a million years.

"Great seeing Stilinski firing a gun,  _shocking_ really. Didn't even flinch." Chris spoke far too proudly, to which his daughter decided to answer with one of her witty remarks, with that smart but still incredibly annoying humour.

"Not to mention that the scrunched up face was undeniably adorable."

There he stood with a bruised jaw and eye, split lip and with cuts all over that beautiful pale skin. One was just above his eyebrow, whilst there were much more under the eye that wasn't bruised and as if those weren't enough there was one on his chin that was barely visible since his stubble nearly covered it. Of course, there was no way for her to ignore the fact that his shirt had holes cut in it and that probably could only mean that contusions covered his torso, and she found herself suddenly praying to god that he hadn't done anything tragic enough like reopening his gunshot wound. His facial expression lacked any sign of pain or discomfort and she took a little pleasure in that, even though a small part of her wished she would be cruel enough to torture him for being so reckless when not that long ago he had been shot and had gone through a harsh recovery, but what she did notice meanwhile was the guilt that took over his features and somehow that made her feel even happier. _Regretting his decision, good._  Reluctantly, she tore her eyes away and let them fall on the older man instead who was sporting quite the bruise over his left eye as well, and it was only then that she realised her best friend looked impeccable as ever, just as great as she did after coming from her honeymoon. That could only mean she was the one sitting on a crappy motel room rather than going out there with the two men and hunt whatever that son of a bitch was. 

Literally ignoring the fact none of the males bothered to even take a shower before coming home, she released a shuddered breath and slowly, almost hesitantly approached him. "What -" She cleared her throat since her voice sounded to weak, to raw in her opinion. "What the  _hell_ happened?"

"Feisty." Allison mumbled, well aware of the fact that was only going to piss her off even more.

"I thought you said it wasn't that big of a deal!"

"And it wasn't." She stated matter-of-factly, shrugging her shoulders like none of that actually bothered her, and Stiles gulped nervously, unconsciously taking a step back with Chris as they both feared for their and the brunette's safety.

"He looks like  _crap_!"

"Oh,  _that_?" Pointing out to the male's face with her index finger, she once again shrugged and then reached out for the swear jar, never being one to miss those little moments whenever the straberry blonde cursed and only contributed to her son's college fund. "That's  _nothing_."

"Nothing?!"

"Yup, nothing." She waved the jar with an arched brow, "Come on, mama, pay up."

"What the  _fuck_ is wrong with you?" 

"Oh, come on, Lyds!"

"Don't  _fucking_ Lyds me, Allison!" Lydia had visibly stepped closer and both men put a larger distance between them and the two women again, completely out of instinct, since she was pretty sure one of them was going to pounce the other eventually. "That's not  _nothing_!" Sure, her boyfriend had been a part of hunts before, their teenage years were spent with their group  _or should she say pack_ constantly in trouble, defying monsters and strong forces of darkness that could have easily ended them as if they were nothing, but he wanted the authentic experience with junk food, crappy motel rooms and heavy research that took up most of their time. He wanted the action, the running through the woods in the middle of the night, being chased or chasing after a mystical creature. He wanted the rush, the adrenaline, what had been taken away from him after being injured on the job. And therefore the Argents agreed to let him in on that hunt, saying that it was an easy and quick job to do and so nothing bad could actually come out of it. But that looked bad. "He's covered in  _fucking_ bruises! I can't believe I let you talk me into agreeing to this  _shit_!"

"Christ, Lydia, he's fine! Nothing that a long, hot shower won't solve, which by the way, my dad will need too." Again, she shoved the jar in her friend's face, clearly challenging her while Stiles cautiously pulled out his wallet and slipped the right amount of money for the swear words that had escaped his girlfriend's mouth in a matter of seconds. It was also very hard to avoid the way their friend's father was doing his best to hold back his laughter, every once in a while releasing a huff of breath that only confirmed his awful effort at controlling his reactions. "Good man, good man." She mumbled once the young man slipped a few dollars in the jar, ignoring how the strawberry blonde was fuming, doing her best not to snap and scream at either or even all of them since her child was, after all, still in the apartment.

"You know, I don't get him, but I guess I can accept it. He has always been the kind of guy that just lets it be, all chilled out, not worrying whether or not that kind of _shit_ has consequences. Sure, I can also understand why you guys agreed to take him with you in the first place, since he has been constantly moaning about being stuck to his desk doing paperwork rather than out on the field and at a certain point, even I encouraged it because I just wanted him to _shut up._ But he was shot nonetheless, went through a harsh recovery, every once in a while has an unbearable pain, and yet none of you had the decency of taking him to an hospital?" At that, Allison managed to look somewhat ashamed, even if she clearly took pleasure in riling her up. Her father wasn't that fond of his carelessness either, suddenly wishing they had stopped by an hospital to have him checked but the fact they hadn't even showered, wanting to get home as soon as possible since once monsters were killed and jobs were completed, Stiles didn't seem to be able to stop whining about missing his family, wasn't quite helpful on their case either. "So, what the _h_ -"

Her near slip up was prevented by a child that stormed out of his room and squealed in joy upon seeing that the people he had been missing dearly were back home, and he instantly ran towards the oldest man in the room, jumping into his arms since he knew that he would always catch him.

"Uncle Chris!" 

"Hey, little man." Stiles' shocked and almost hurtful expression was replaced with mild joy when he noticed that, even though his kid didn't go to him first, he clearly loved the people in his life as much as he did, even if all of it was very confusing to him a few years back. He couldn't deny that it was also very amusing seeing the boy's scrunched up face, much like his own, as he leaned back and eyed Argent carefully. "What?"

"You need a shower."

With that, he threw himself into his father's arms, this time being more than sure that the male would always catch him, and slid his arms around his neck in a tight, but oh so amazing and welcomed hug. Then, he did the exact same thing to him he had done to Chris, observing him slowly before small fingertips slid across nasty contusions as his lips moved silently, counting each and every one of them. The young male was doing a very good job at not tearing up or mentioning how that innocent touch seemed to heal all of his wounds, or hidden brokenness that he hadn't even thought of in a very long time, but his grip tightened around the small body anyway, holding him closer if it was humanly possible. 

"Daddy, you don't look good."

"You should have seen the other guy."

"No, he shouldn't have!" Lydia snapped, not being able to take that in a light way no matter how much she wished she could, and everyone in that room except a very cute child noticed that. "I will tend to his wounds and then he'll take a shower, is that okay? Chris, you can go next."

 

* * *

 

"What's his name again?" Scott asked for the thousandth time while stroking the puppy's fur behind one of his ear and letting him lick at his chin. He knew perfectly what was the dog's name, but as it turned out and _as adorable as that could be_ , Jonathan was as easy to annoy as his mother was. 

"Again?!" He said, clearly exasperated and oblivious to how everyone in the room was having a good laugh at his expense. "Patch, like the one in 101 Dalmatians!"

"Oh, _oh_! I remember now!"

"You're such a _dick_." Stiles chuckled lowly, not realising what had just slipped out of his mouth before his son gasped loudly and covered his mouth with one of his hands whilst the other tried to reach up for the swear jar. "Ops."

"We should probably get going, before this becomes a mess. God knows how much Lydia still wants to kill me for letting her precious boy getting hurt." Allison mocked whilst her friend slid another dollar in the jar, looking over at his husband who was snuggling the pet in his chest. "Shall we, babe?"

"Sure, but first, how hard is it keeping a pup in an apartment?"

"Not hard at all, I mean, I already had Liam, remember?" The deputy answered the question with a smug, cheeky grin on his face, not missing how his roommate grumbled something along the lines of  _shut up before I add more bruises to those you already have_.

 

* * *

 

 

Sitting on the couch with an already warm beer in one of his hands, Stiles was deep in thought since as soon as their friends left, including Liam who was going on a date with that girl Elena, he was reminded of the fact his son's birthday was on the following day. He wasn't sure what was bothering him, the fact he didn't have the perfect gift or the fact he had missed all of his birthdays before and therefore he had no way of how to face the date, completely dreading the mere possibility of him screwing up everything  _because he sure had a gift to do so_. Jay had been absolutely ecstatic ever since there was only a month left, which was definitely adorable and he had been loving every second of it, how the kid hadn't particularly asked for anything but dropped hints here and there, yet now with only a day for the actual date, he wasn't loving it at all. Yes, there was nothing more that he wanted than being able to finally spend such an important day with him, but it was hard, so hard, to know exactly what to do to let the child know that he was sorry for not being there, happy to finally be there, and proud of the little man he already was. But was there actually something that could convey all of those emotions in only a gift?

His eyes were glued to the tv, but he wasn't actually watching what was on it, and she didn't need much to notice that. Carefully not to startle him, she plopped down beside him and placed a photo album on his lap, watching as he glanced over at her with that beautiful smirk on his face, along with a rather confused expression. She wanted to blurt out and tell him what it was, but she also wanted to give him the right amount of time needed for him to process what was about to happen because ever since he came back to Beacon Hills, he had been so busy trying to be welcomed back into everyone's lives, trying to be a part of his kid's life and letting his kid be a part of his, that he barely had the time to actually see how all those years without him were. 

She looked different than the Lydia Martin everyone was used to, _so beautifully composed and always so classy_. But at that moment, with a pair of black sweatpants that hung low on her hips, not meeting the hem of her,  _his actually_ , white t-shirt, her hair up in a messy bun, he felt as if she had never looked so devastatingly beautiful. He couldn't help it, he leaned forward rather than asking what that photo album was or what it meant, and her usually wandering hands creeped up, delicately pressing her fingertips behind his jaw to tug him closer before kissing him. She deepened the kiss, urging his mouth open as he pressed himself closer whilst her hands clutched at the front of his shirt, and before it all became too much and they were distracted of their initial goal, she pulled away and nodded down at the book.

"Listen to me, -"

" _Lydia_ -"

"Listen," Finally, his eyes snapped up to meet hazel ones and he waited, patiently, for her to say whatever it was that was in her mind, that was so important that interrupted their kissing that was definitely helping him forget how fucking messed up he was again. "You're new to this, you're scared, you want something great, but he's just a kid."

"Not just any kid babe, he's  _my_ kid,  _our_ kid." And that meant he had to do absolutely everything in his power to give his child exactly what he wanted, what he needed. He couldn't be sloppy, he couldn't even afford to disappoint, to fail the young boy. He had to do _more_ , give  _more_ , always more.

"Yes, he is. But at the end of the day, he's just a kid, and you're his father, and he's going to love whatever you have reserved for him. Especially because it's new, not only for you, but for the both of you, and the fact you're putting effort into something like this will always be more than enough for him. He will  _always_ appreciate it, as if it was the best thing in the world."

"I know."

"And therefore, you need to know that wracking your brain, trying to come up with the best way to make it up to him for the fact you haven't been here is absolutely unnecessary."

"It's not -"

"Stiles, I  _love_ you." Yes, that was new between them too, saying the L word so openly, and easily, and frequently as if nothing bad had ever happened between them, no distance whatsoever keeping them apart, and though they were supposed to be scared by it, they still loved it. "But you tend to overdo. I mean, you did get me a TV for my birthday even before we were even together."

"Well -"

"And a dozen of other stuff that I was never going to need, or even ask of you."

"I didn't know what to give you!"

"And yet, your presence alone was a lot better than any birthday present you could come up with. Our son will feel the same way. Sweetheart," Again, she had to tug at his jaw to make him look at her, and once he did, she continued. "I know you mean well, I know it's out of love, but by doing so you automatically pull yourself away. As if nothing you found was ever going to be enough to please someone, to make them happy, and that's not true. He _knows_ you care enough to give him the world, but he doesn't want the world. He wants _you_."

He nodded in agreement, letting a small smile play at his lips as he slowly inched closer and placed a soft kiss on her cheek where her dimples usually appeared whenever she smiled,  _which she did and it was **beautiful**_.

"So I'm guessing a soccer ball will do the job?"

"Pft." She rolled her eyes, grabbing the nearly empty beer bottle from his hand while standing from the couch. "You can still put some effort into it, you know?" That did it, what she had been hoping for ever since she sat beside him, a soft but still loud chuckle escaped his lips before he began looking through that album.

 

* * *

 

 

The carnival was his choice,  _rushed and sudden one at that since he had been thinking of and trying just about anything,_ and he knew it was cheesy, and absolutely _unnecessary_ as Lydia put it the previous night, but the way his son's face lit up like a christmas tree as they made their way through crowds of people, taking in all kind of smells and all the bright, twinkling lights, made it all worth it. He didn't care that he was probably doing  _it_ , _overdoing_ , and he knew that if he was, his girlfriend would gladly tell him so later. Honestly, the only thing he cared for was how Jonathan nearly convinced him to try all the rides, having been able to talk him into giving him a hot dog and cotton candy, and how absolutely joyful he looked throughout the whole evening.

 _Sure_ , he was pretty sure that someone was going to lecture him for the sugar high later.

But for the moment, as they went for a ride on the ferris wheel and were almost at the top of if, being gifted with the wonderful view of the whole town, covered in bright streetlights or beautiful stars, and that beautiful kind of darkness that gets anyone fascinated with all of it, he realised that he really didn't care. Not when his kid was cuddling his side, mesmerised by the sight and those magical dots in the sky, nearly as much as he was.

He didn't care. He  _couldn't_ care.

Because he had _made_ it.

And when two pairs of beautiful, hopeful eyes caught a glimpse of a shooting star, Stiles found himself muttering, "Make a wish." to which Jonathan responded by letting his eyes flutter shut.

"What did you wish for?"

"Can't tell you." The kid said with the brightest, and most wonderful smile on his face. "Otherwise it won't come true."

"Smart choice."

"What did _you_ wish for?"

He smiled because,  _really_ , it's not like Jay was expecting him to reply since he was the one stating that it wouldn't come true in the first place, but it didn't matter anyway.

It had already come true.

It was  _him_.

He was his wish come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, it's been such a long time and I had promised quicker updates, I know. Life has been kinda rough on me, and I can't even explain how much and how often I thought of you guys, how I wanted to post a new chapter and let you know that I didn't forget about this story. I know some of you have asked if I was going to continue and finish it, and though I have said a couple of times that I would, I sadly didn't find the time but now it's here. It's just been really complicated for me to be able to write, even though I have repeatedly written this chapter only to lose it eventually because apparently, other than my life, my laptop hates me too. 
> 
> I hope you're all doing well, and still willing to read this because ta-da! I found some time, and inspiration, and will to do this!
> 
> Also, I'm truly sorry in case there's any mistakes - again, you probably already know English isn't my native language, and unfortunately I didn't have the time to read it over otherwise it would take me too long to post it so please just ignore it? Or, you know, don't because that's okay too!
> 
> Enjoy!


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